I'm Yours
by infamouschelsea
Summary: Part 3 of the Maîtrise trilogy. It's been a whirlwind nine months for Ana and Christian. They met, fell madly in love, faced pure evil and, somehow, came out of it stronger than ever. But as they start making plans for their future, is there one more surprise ready to disrupt their happiness?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing with the exception of any original characters. No copyright infringement intended. Just churning out those plot bunnies, my lovelies.**

**Hey Everyone!**

**Well here it is, the start of I'm Yours!**

**This is the third and final instalment in the Maîtrise trilogy. I never thought we would get this far but thank you so much for the support you have shown me and my stories. It's because of you guys I have continued with it. :)**

**I really hope you will enjoy this story. I will continue to aim for weekly uploads but I do have a chaotic work schedule at the moment, so there may be delays here and there. If I'm MIA, please be assured that I haven't abandoned this story. I'll always come back when I can.**

**More coming soon. **

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

_**For complete transparency (because I always get asked about this when I start uploading new stories) there will be no cheating and no Ana/Christian deaths in this story. Strictly HEA, folks x**_

* * *

"Are you ready to get back to the daily grind?"

I lazily raised my head and met Luke Sawyer's sea-green gaze in the rear-view mirror. He stared back at me from behind the wheel, his eyes shifting constantly between me and the road ahead.

I snorted a low laugh and shook my head.

"My body might be here, but I'm pretty sure my head and heart are still in Paris," I sighed.

He smiled and nodded, and I wondered for a moment if he wished he was still in Europe too.

Sawyer and Jazmin Grande had escorted me and Christian to France, joining us on our ten-day long vacation to celebrate my 23rd birthday. Taylor and Mrs Jones took their own vacation to Florida with Taylor's daughter, Sophie, partaking in the delights to be had at Disneyworld. I ordered them to take time off, refusing to let them come to Paris. I wasn't going to take no for an answer, regardless of what Christian had to say about the matter. Neither of them would be able to rest if they were busy looking after us all of the time. Taylor, especially, deserved a break. The man was a saint.

My birthday vacation was yet another surprise, courtesy of my always extravagant, always spontaneous fiancé. Collecting me from work one evening, he drove us straight to the airport. He didn't tell me what was happening, not until we got on the tarmac. He had taken care of everything – our bags, passports, travel arrangements, no stone left unturned. All I had to do was buckle up and enjoy the complimentary glass of champagne I was offered.

I had expected some kind of surprise for my birthday, but I didn't anticipate being whisked away to one of the most romantic cities in the world.

Christian had leased a chateau for us to stay in, with a smaller property on the grounds for Jaz and Sawyer to base themselves in. The chateau sat in the middle of vast lavender fields, a sea of purple surrounding us from every angle and sending a waft of calming aromas to the house through the evening breeze. I could almost feel myself there now, standing on the balcony and watching the sunset dropping behind the hills, a glass of rosé in my hand, relaxing after a day spent exploring the city…

It was absolutely perfect.

A part of me was sad to be back home. I could have stayed in Paris for ever.

I glimpsed down at my phone and smiled as I looked over my new wallpaper.

_My Christian. _

I had snapped the candid photograph of him on our last night in France. He was in the bathroom, getting ready to hop in the shower before dinner. His head was bowed, his fingers working their way through the buttons on his shirt. There was something so intimate and human about the scene that I couldn't help memorialising it to savour in the future. Moments after I had zoomed in on him, he turned his head to me and smirked. It was that devilish smile I had captured in my photo. His dimples pierced his cheeks, a familiar glint in his eyes.

"Do you have an easy day ahead of you?" Sawyer asked, slicing through my thoughts.

"I don't know," I shrugged, lifting my eyes to the front again. "I'll find out what needs doing when I get there. I imagine there's a ton of emails waiting for me."

I settled back in my seat and raked a hand over my tired features, a yawn escaping me. I was still struggling to adjust to being back on normal time, jetlag kicking my butt since we arrived home yesterday morning.

"I don't know how Christian does it," I mumbled. "He never gets jetlag. He recovers so easily."

"He's had years of practice," Jaz observed, twisting her head towards me. "He averaged 350 flights in the last two years alone. The far East and central Europe were his most frequent destinations."

Sawyer tilted his head to the side, in her direction, and frowned.

"How exactly do you know that?" he questioned.

"I did my research," she replied, shrugging. "One of us needs to keep up-to-date on information relating to our employers. You never know when it might come in handy."

I withheld a laugh as I saw Sawyer roll his eyes in the mirror.

Since catching the two of them in a compromising position at my engagement party, I had seen a definite shift in their behaviour. For the better, I might add! They no longer bicker, just share a healthy banter with each other. They had so far managed to keep things professional whilst shadowing me, but I had seen them holding hands at the end of their shifts some nights.

Christian still wasn't impressed about their budding romance. But, to be truthful, he still wasn't completely sold on Sawyer. I had yet to convince him that Sawyer was more than capable of looking after me.

"Maybe he wouldn't hate your guts if you actually bothered to read up about him," Jaz added, chiding her partner.

"So, what, I can try kissing his ass? No thanks. Not gonna waste my time doing that." Sawyer grumbled. He quickly glanced back at me. "Sorry."

"Don't be," I shook my head.

"I just mean, he hates me anyway so there's no point trying to suck up to him."

"He doesn't hate you."

"He doesn't trust me," he eyed me. "I get it, though. After what happened in Maîtrise –"

I raised my hand to silence him.

"Can we park that conversation?" I asked. "I'm done focusing on that part of my past."

"Yeah, of course," he nodded eagerly. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"You can talk about it," I clarified. "It doesn't affect me anymore. At least, not like it used to… I'm trying to focus on the here and now these days. I don't want to get caught up in the past when I have such an amazing present and future ahead of me."

Sawyer cracked a grin and nodded again.

"And for what it's worth," I said. "It doesn't matter if Christian hates you or not. You work for me, not him. I like you _and_ I trust you."

"Thank god for that," he snorted as he pulled the car into the SIP parking lot. "That's one huge relief."

* * *

I climbed the stairs to my floor and was immediately met by my boss cheerfully grinning at my arrival. Mark Griffin was stood at the top of the staircase, his hands on his hips, wearing a tweed pants and vest combo with a dusty pink shirt open at the collar. He looked suave and sophisticated, more so than usual, his curly black hair tamed into a side-swept style and his stubble neatly trimmed.

"Someone looks fancy," I hummed as I reached him.

"Gotta look my best, seeing as my favourite girl is back in the office!" he beamed, opening out his arms and quickly pulling me in for a hug. He smelled of coffee and chocolate. "God, it's good to have you back."

"Don't tell me you've actually missed me?"

"Are you kidding?" he shrieked. He pushed me away and shook his head. "I just want to know what you bought me. Because I know you must have bought me something from your travels."

I held up the small gift bag I had prepared for him this morning, filling it with the trinkets I had collected from various stores and boutiques.

"Oooh," he purred, snatching it from me and rummaging inside. "A mini Eiffel Tower, cute… Cologne? Yummy! Oh wait… Chocolate? Yes, baby. You did good."

"You specifically asked for chocolate, so it would be disgraceful if that's the one thing I forgot," I giggled.

"I also asked for some nudes of your fiancé, but you wouldn't grant me that wish," he pursed his lips, then winked at me.

"That's for my eyes only," I teased him.

He stuck his tongue out and gestured for me to follow him. Jaz kept a respectable distance before heading straight for my office, while I trailed Mark into his.

"Did you have a good birthday?" he called back to me.

"I did, thank you. Very relaxing. Exactly what I was hoping for."

Walking across the length of the floor, I smiled and greeted my colleagues as I passed their desks. Each of them raised their heads in recognition, but none of them could muster the same degree of warmth I had extended to them.

Smiles didn't reach eyes. There was no chirpy small talk, no acknowledgment of my recent absence. Nothing.

It was odd and unsettling.

I had never seen everyone so serious before. The office was normally a stress-free zone. Yes, we had all experienced our share of pressure, but we dealt with whatever issue was at hand and then got stuck in to help each other through it. Everyone helped their neighbour. We were a solid team. It's why I love SIP.

But now, it was like walking through an examination hall. They were all slumped over their desks, typing frantically on their keyboards, unwilling to be distracted from whatever they were doing. It looked like all systems go.

I shivered as I dropped down into the seat opposite Mark's, pushing the door to a soft close behind me.

"Thank you again for authorising my vacation," I said to him. "I know it's annoying, having to push it through last minute. Christian could have given you a bit more notice."

He had contacted Mark the morning we set off for France, requesting I take ten days' vacation there and then. Apparently, he had only just confirmed our flight and accommodation details.

"Don't worry about it," Mark waved it off with the flick of his hand. "You deserved the break. And we had enough people here to cover anything that cropped up. It's fine."

"I don't like taking liberties though," I shook my head. "I don't want preferential treatment, least of all because of who I'm engaged to."

"That's not the reason I authorised your leave," he revealed, casually. "I did it because you work hard. Don't think I haven't noticed the fact you frequently take work home with you. I notice these things, Ana. You're always on your A-game and as much as I love that about you, I also want you to be well-rested. If that means clearing a last-minute vacation, so be it. It's no skin off my nose, honey."

"Really?" I muttered, feeling a tad overwhelmed under the weight of his compliment.

"Speaking as I find," he smiled. "I know you'll be able to catch up, regardless. You pick things up quickly. Which is essential here, as you know."

I had no qualms about being able to catch up on my work. I didn't want to sound big-headed but I knew how to manage my time and prioritise tasks. I rarely gave into procrastination, having learned the hard way about that during my first year of college.

Procrastination and stress get you nowhere. They're the rocking horses of life.

"I want all the dirty details from your vay-cay," Mark prompted. He kicked his feet up on his desk. "Don't leave me hanging. Was Christian as romantic as ever? Did he have rose petals scattered on the bed? Towels shaped like swans?"

"No rose petals," I chuckled, shaking my head. "And definitely no swans of any sort."

"Did he feed you grapes and cheese and fill you with delicious wines?"

"Yes to the wine and cheese, but I turned down the grapes. I did have more than my fair share of freshly baked bread, though. We had some delivered to the chateau every morning."

"Was it just the two of you every day? Complete privacy?"

"Pretty much," I nodded. "Jaz and Sawyer only came out with us if we headed into the city itself. Otherwise, it was just me and Christian… It was amazing, being together like that. Having no one else to focus on but each other."

"Oh!" he clutched his chest and sighed. "To be young again… and in love in sweet, sweet _pah-rhee_…"

"You are young –"

"I don't feel it," he huffed. "Thirty-seven is not the new twenty-five, I can tell you that for nothing!"

"Well, you are in love," I countered.

"That is true," he pouted, pointing at me. "Very true. Although, Harry's never taken me to France. The furthest he's taken me is Alaska and that was not romantic, just extremely cold and wet… He needs to take some lessons from Christian."

"I'm sure he's doing fine," I said, sticking up for Mark's long-suffering boyfriend. They made the dream couple. I had met Harry a few times recently and adored his easy-going temperament and nature. "Now, then, is there anything I need to catch up on before I get stuck into my emails and memos?"

Mark was mindlessly checking through the plethora of chocolate bars I had bought him, oohing and ahhing in awe every few seconds. I snapped my fingers to bring his attention back to me.

"Honestly, you are such a child when it comes to chocolate," I laughed.

"We all have our vices," he smirked. "Any news? Erm… The proofs for Ryan and Anita's book came in last week. We're sending them out to reviewers soon, date to be confirmed. You'll need to check the list and make sure it's updated."

"Okay, no problem. Anything else?"

"Oh, there's a meeting at eleven," he nodded. "Conference room 2. Everyone will be there."

"Everyone?" I frowned. "As in, all of the editorial team?"

"As in, everyone in the building," he clarified. My brows shot up my forehead. "The board of directors called me first thing and they want everyone present and accounted for. Everyone from up here, downstairs, even domestics."

"That sounds ominous."

"It's strange," he observed. "Normally they just relay information to senior staff and ask us to pass it down. I've never known them to call everyone together like this."

"Do you have any idea what the meeting could be about?"

"No," he shook his head. "But I'm not stressin' about it. Whatever it is they have to tell us, we'll deal with it later."

I chewed on my lower lip, my knee starting to bob up and down.

"Don't sweat about it," Mark urged me. "What will be, will be. In the meantime, you have emails to tackle and I have all of this delicious chocolate to sample."

I rolled my eyes and stood up, collecting my purse and leaving his office.

I shuffled down the hall, checking over my colleagues once more. The tension ebbing through the air was palpable. I hoped they were fretting over nothing, not only for their sakes but mine. I didn't like my usually upbeat and friendly co-workers to be riddled with fear and worry. Especially now that same feeling was starting to creep into my stomach.

Settling back into my office, Jaz checked on me from her corner of the room. She had already made herself at home, her leather jacket strewn across the back of her chair, her iPad resting on her knee.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"I think so," I hummed, unconvincingly. "I hope so."

"Something I need to know?" she arched her brow, her golden eyes narrowing.

"No, it's work stuff," I shook my head, brushing it off. I forced a smile. "I'm sure it's nothing. Probably just some HR changes."

Jaz nodded back at me and returned her attention to her iPad.

I circled my chair closer to my desk and started up my computer. Waiting for it to load, I picked up my phone and opened my texts. I selected the impressive thread of messages I have with Christian. It was well into the thousands.

I typed out my message:

_Hey, I got to work fine, back at my desk now. Jetlag is still a pain in the ass. Hope your morning is going well so far. Love you x_

I watched as the text was sent and paused, expecting a quick reply. He usually replied within seconds, if he has his phone on him. Which is pretty much all the time.

I waited and waited and after a minute of nothing, I set my phone down and released a deep sigh.

He has ten-days' worth of business to catch up on too. Checking my emails, I had only 72 unread messages to sift through. God knows how many Christian must have!

He's probably stuck in an impromptu meeting himself.

He had left before me this morning, before I had even woken up. He must have wanted to hit the ground running and get back to the real-world.

"Ana?"

"Yeah?" I lifted my head and looked over to Jaz.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"A tea would be great, thank you," I nodded. "If you find any cookies in the kitchen, I'd appreciate a plate. I think food will help keep me awake."

"If you need a quick power nap, I'll guard the door for you," she promised. "No one will know."

"I'll be fine," I shook my head, smiling. "But thank you for the offer."

"Word from Taylor is that Mr Grey has been known to nap in his office during the middle of the day," she revealed.

I pressed my lips together to hide my knowing smirk.

_That's not the only thing Mr Grey has been known to do in his office._


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Thank you so much for the support on the last chapter. Uploading a new story (even if it is part of a series) is never easy. I'm overwhelmed and grateful by the response so far.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea xx**

* * *

**Margaret Talai** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! I really hope you will enjoy this story. I'm excited to share it with you all. Much Love x

**Elisa Marshall** – Thank you! I'm glad you're liking it so far. I hope you like this chapter too! Much Love x

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! There is definitely something up at SIP… all is explained in this chapter! I hope you like it. Much Love x

**Naomi** – Thank you! That is great to hear. I'm glad you enjoyed The Vow. I really hope you will enjoy this story as much! Much Love x

* * *

Everybody piled into the conference room before 11am, cramming into the tiny space until we were packed like sardines. It didn't feel remotely comfortable, physically or mentally. It didn't seem right seeing everyone in one room, seeing their confused and worried faces spread from corner to corner.

Mark stood beside me, leaning against the back wall, his feet crossed at the ankle and his arms folded around his chest. I wished I had his degree of calmness. My stomach was twisting into knots. I was picking up on everybody else's anguish. I was having a hard time stopping myself from chewing on my lip or biting my fingernails.

"Thank you for arriving promptly -" one of the suits at the front of the room spoke gruffly, clearing his voice in order to address us. He was one of three men, each middle-aged and greying. The one seated on the left was making notes, the one on the right glancing around the room and assessing each of us in turn. "I know this is hardly ideal but it is easier to talk to you all together, rather than have the same conversation over and over. It's only fair you all find this out at the same time."

"Can we cut to the chase? You're busy, we're busy, so let's get on with it, yeah?" Mark grumbled, staring directly at the guy in the middle. It was the first hint of weariness to emanate from him. "What's this about?"

The middle man coughed and peered down at the folder laid out in front of him. He pressed his palms together and sighed.

"We received news on Friday afternoon that Mr Savidge had been taken to hospital following a heart attack," he began. "As you should already be aware, Mr Savidge has been president of SIP since it was established in 2003. He's been at the helm since day one."

"And?" Mark prompted. A frown wormed through his brows. "Is he okay?"

After a pregnant pause, the man shook his head.

"Mr Savidge passed away in the early hours of Saturday morning," he revealed.

My hand crept to the base of my throat.

I had only met Mr Savidge on a couple of occasions but I had greatly enjoyed his company. He had quickly put me at ease, despite my crippling nerves when I first met him. I had been asked to conduct a presentation for him and his MDs. I expected a fierce dinosaur, ready to roar, but actually found a friendly giant with a welcoming hand.

He was passionate about books. He loved SIP. It was his baby.

I felt so sorry for him and his family.

"We are here today to discuss the next steps," the man continued. He gulped hard. "We have been asked to come here and look at what can be done in the interim."

"What do you mean?" Mark questioned. He peeled himself from the wall, straightening his spine, broadening his shoulders as if readying for battle. "What's going to happen?"

"Mrs Savidge has been appointed Mr Savidge's sole beneficiary. Upon his passing, everything has been transferred directly to her. That includes this company."

"And? So we've got a new boss?" Mark shrugged.

"Not exactly," the man shook his head again. "Mrs Savidge has decided that she wishes to sell Seattle Independent Publishers, as soon as possible, to minimise any further costs to her and her family."

Mumbles swam around the room, side-glances shooting this way and that. The unease was rippling through all of us. I dug my heels into the carpet, my legs becoming leaden.

"You may not have been aware but Mr Savidge pumped a lot of his own money into the company, perhaps more than he should have," the man observed. I doubt he had read a book since finishing high school. He probably didn't understand how a bibliophile operates. "He used money from his other ventures to keep this company going, sometimes taking an enormous loss in the process."

"And his wife doesn't see the point?" Mark scowled.

"She has been briefed on the current state of the company and its finances and she wishes to sell," he reiterated, coyly. "She had been telling Mr Savidge for a while that SIP wasn't viable in the long-term."

The mumbles shifted to groans, frustration seeping through.

"We hit a rough patch, I'll admit," Mark shook his head. "But things are looking up now. All of our numbers are soaring. Turnover has increased tenfold!"

"That may be true, but the fact of the matter remains that Mr Savidge supported the company and provided a much-needed backbone. Now he is gone, the situation has changed."

"So, what, you're shutting us down?" someone at the front asked.

"No," the man replied. "We are looking for a new buyer to takeover. The business is now listed for sale."

"You're consolidators?" Mark snorted. He raised his chin and slowly nodded. "You're here to cut costs until a new buyer is found, aren't you?"

The man dropped his eyes to his folder again. Mark had clearly hit the nail on the head.

"What's the plan, then?" Mark pressed on. He was like a dog with a bone. He wasn't letting up. "Are you going to start selling off assets if a buyer can't be found straight away?"

"We will be looking at every possible avenue to see if we can minimise costs to Mrs Savidge until a buyer is found," the man churned out his memorised reply. "She has other finances to consider and SIP is the least valuable to her. It makes sense to cut ties at this stage."

"And screw the rest of us over in the process?" Mark retorted.

"Employee losses will be a last resort," the man promised, but his words fell short of holding any meaning.

"But it's on the table?" another voice asked, somewhere to my right. I looked in that direction and saw a sea of angry faces. "Some of us could lose our jobs?"

"It's a possibility," the man confirmed. "But, as I said, it will be a last resort. If a buyer is found soon, there will be nothing to worry about."

"How long?" Mark posed the question I think all of us were wondering. "How long are we talking? How quickly do you need to get a buyer?"

"Mrs Savidge has cleared a ten-week grace period," the man read from his notes. "If no buyer has come forward after ten weeks, we will come back and start the process of consolidating assets with possible redundancies for some of you."

_Ten weeks?_

That's hardly any time at all.

Is it even possible to find someone to take on the business in that time frame?

Even though the numbers are looking up, there was no hiding the previous struggles SIP has faced. The entire book industry has struggled for years. Most people think it's a dying trade and destined for the scrap heap.

How likely is it that we'll find another ardent reader to take us on?

And if there will be job cuts, how many of us will go?

My stomach sank as my head dropped to the floor.

It took me this long to find a job I love, in an industry I am fanatical about, it seemed to take forever.

I closed my eyes and shook my head.

_Oh god._

I know how this works.

The last one in is the first one out.

_And that's me. I was the last person to join the company._

"We hope it won't come to that, but we have a duty to inform you there is a chance jobs will be at risk," the man continued but his voice had muffled considerably.

The three suits lingered at the front of the room for a moment, answering just a few questions from my concerned colleagues before darting out of the room and leaving a trail of despair in their wake.

One by one everybody filtered out, until it was just me and Mark left behind.

I felt his hand settle on my upper arm.

"Shit news to come back to, huh?" he murmured. I lifted my head and sought out his friendly gaze. He gave me a small smile. "Try not to worry."

"Easy for you to say," I sighed. "There's no way they'll get rid of you. You're the most senior person on site. You're irreplaceable."

"And so are you," he protested, but I shook my head at him.

"I'm just an editor," I said.

"You're not _just_ anything," he dismissed my comment with a grumble. "You're an integral part of _my_ team. I'm not going to sit back and let them get rid of my MVPs."

I managed a weak smile but I knew it didn't reach my eyes.

"We'll get a new buyer," he tried to assure me. "We're doing great. We're getting great publicity, our social media accounts are getting more hits every day, it's all positive. Someone will take a look at the figures and see it's a worthwhile investment."

"I hope so," I sighed again. "For all of our sakes."

Mark spun me into a hug, my head automatically dropping onto his shoulder.

"I won't let anything happen to you, honey," he whispered, patting my back as he made his promise. His words sounded more convincing than the suit's. "If you go, I go. I can't steer this ship on my own."

"You mean that?"

"One million percent," he hummed. "I'm not gonna lose my best girl."

I relaxed in his hold, allowing my shoulders to unfurl.

"Anyway, if the shit does hit the fan, at least you've got a hunk at home to look after you," he snorted. "You can always become a trophy wife and sit back while Christian makes the big bucks."

"Never going to happen," I refused instantly, pulling sharply away from him. I frowned as I shook my head at his suggestion. "There's no way in hell I'll let that happen. Over my dead body."

"It's an option," he shrugged, playfully.

"Not for us," I replied. "Christian and I support each other, it's a two-way street, there's no way I'll ever live solely off his money. I won't turn into my mother."

Mark narrowed his eyes at me. He had picked up on the bitterness in my words.

"Oooh, I'm sensing drama on the mommy front," he sang, pursing his lips. "Want to tell me more over a coffee?"

"No, not right now," I said. "I need to get back to my desk. I'm still working my way through my emails."

I began to turn away when he caught me by the arm, bringing me to a stop.

"You know my door is always open," he urged. "If ever you need to talk about something. Doesn't matter how big or small. I'm here."

"I know," I nodded. "I appreciate it."

He gave me another smile and sent me on my way.

I exited the conference room and shuffled down the hall, heading for the staircase. I climbed to the top and rounded the corner, making a beeline for the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. I needed something warm and soothing after the news we had just received.

I was about to enter through the archway when I heard muffled voices, the sound slowing my footsteps.

Leaning against the adjoining wall, I listened in for a second.

"You know we're all screwed," I heard someone say. I narrowed my eyes as I tried to determine who it was. Josh from printing? "None of us are safe now."

"That's not strictly true," a female voice snorted. It sounded like Maria, one of the line editors whose desk is closest to my office. She had sent me a beautiful, handcrafted card for my birthday. "Some of us are safe."

"Well, yeah, Mark isn't –"

"I'm not talking about Mark," she huffed. "I'm talking about little Miss Perfect."

"Who?"

"Ana, you dumbass!"

A cold shiver flashed down the length of my spine.

"There's no way she'll get the bullet. She's on a pedestal. Has been since she got here."

"Mark adores her."

"Mark's a sucker for compliments and someone who is prepared to stroke his ego," Maria groaned. "If he wasn't gay, she'd probably have crawled all over him by now."

"I don't think that's fair," a second male voice intervened. "She doesn't seem the type -"

"Nobody thought Jack was the type to steal thousands of dollars from the company, but he still did it," she shot back. "You can't take people on face value."

"She's a hard worker, you can't fault her on that," the intervener added. "She gets shit done. She makes her deadlines."

"She came here with no experience and waltzed right into an editorial position," Maria continued.

"Mark saw something in her."

"Mark has a crush on her fucking fiancé," she sighed. "We all know she only got that job because of who she's dating and now she's getting married to him, she's the most precious thing SIP has under its belt. She's the golden ticket."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, you must have seen the articles. Any time this place is mentioned, her name comes up and it's swiftly followed by a convenient mention of the infamous Christian Grey. Everyone goes gooey-eyed whenever he's mentioned. Personally, I don't see the appeal…"

"You think that's enough to keep her job safe?"

"Who's going to get rid of Christian Grey's wife? He'll sue anyone who dares upset her," Maria taunted. "He'll make sure her job is safe and kept closely under wraps. It's not what you know, it's who you know."

"Let's hope it won't come to any of that," the third voice said after a beat of silence. "Maybe SIP will get a buyer."

"Maybe her doting fiancé will buy it," Maria cackled. "A wedding present for her._ Here, sweetheart, have a business, let's expand our empire. _It's a joke. I don't know about you guys, but I'm looking for another job. I want to jump before I'm pushed. I'm not sticking around to watch Ana run the show. I'd rather stick pins in my eyes."

I slid along the wall and ducked around the corner, hiding from view as I saw Maria and Josh leave the kitchen, carrying their mugs over to their respective desks.

I hesitated a few moments before dipping inside the kitchen, almost running straight into Ben, who I now recognised as the third voice. He worked on non-fiction.

"Ana… erm… you okay?" he asked, his eyes shooting down to his mug as he stirred his coffee. His cheeks were flushed.

"Yeah," I lied. "You?"

"Alright," he shrugged. "Bit of a shock. Poor ol' Savidge, eh?"

"Poor him," I nodded. "I guess you never know when your time is up."

"Definitely," he agreed. "It's a sad state of affairs, that's for sure."

The air in the kitchen was cold and I could see his shoulders creeping higher, nearing his ears. He dropped his spoon in the sink with a clatter and cleared his throat.

"Right, I'll leave you to it," he muttered. "You taking lunch at one, same time as usual?"

"I might just eat at my desk," I shook my head. Not that I could stomach the thought of food right now. "You can forward your calls to me, if you're heading out."

"Thanks," he smiled. "You're a star."

He nodded and quickly dashed out of the kitchen. He couldn't get away quick enough.

I sank against the nearest counter and exhaled a long breath.

I had fought hard to prove my worth and detach myself from Christian's name and reputation. I've never wanted to rely on him, more so now we're getting married. I've never been interested in that side of him. It means nothing to me. The money, the attention, the fame. I don't care about any of it.

I didn't even want him to help me find this job. I fought him on it for weeks, only letting him check out my resume and recommend some changes in the end. He may have put out the feelers and heard about the vacancy here, but I did all of the legwork.

He didn't get me into SIP. He promised he would never get involved.

No one even knew about us until Kate's article was published, and that was after I started here.

But does everyone think I'm only here because I'm riding on Christian's coattails? Is that the general consensus now?

"What a fucking day," I groaned, kicking out at the cabinet in front of me. "Just what I needed on my first day back."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Apologies for the slight delay - work has been pretty hectic lately, more so for me as I'm in line for a promotion and so I need to get to grips with new things pretty fast. Still writing and editing as and when I can!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**More coming soon!**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I think it's always hard hearing bad things about yourself, but especially for Ana because she ultimately wants to be liked. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

**iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! Oooh, do you think Christian will buy it? Do you think Ana will let him buy it? I'm not sure… I hope you like this update. Much Love x

**SuzB** – It's a bit of a pickle! Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this one too! Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! I feel bad for Ana too. It's not nice when you realise those who were friendly to your face are talking about you behind your back. I hope she'll be able to see past it though! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**Raven J** – Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**Harmony Red** – Thank you! All of that will happen in due course, I promise. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

I was finding it impossible to concentrate on my growing to-do list, information refusing to sink in. I had to re-read my last email three times before I fully understood it.

It would be a serious understatement to say I was worried. I could feel my heart rate increasing every time I thought about the future of SIP and what it means for me and my colleagues. Is this the start of the end for SIP?

I was also concerning myself with what I overhead earlier. I had been disheartened at first, upset even, at what Maria had said about me. But now I was pissed off.

It had ignited a fire in me.

Now, more than ever, I knew I had to prove myself.

I need to go all out and show off, something I usually avoid at all costs. I need to prove myself to potential buyers, but also to my peers. To the likes of Maria who question my being here.

For a start, I knew I had to further distance my personal and professional life. I know the truth about how I got my job, but I don't want to give anybody a chance to suggest I'm only here because of who I'm engaged to. No, I need to keep anything connected to my personal life out of the office.

I returned my wayward attention to my emails and began typing out a reply, my fingers dancing manically across my keyboard. My progress was stunted, however, when my desk phone began to chirp, trilling loudly through the room.

Snatching up the receiver and propping it between my ear and shoulder, I accepted the call from the reception desk.

"Hi, Ana, I'm calling to let you know your two o'clock has arrived."

I narrowed my eyes.

"My two o'clock what?"

"Meeting," the receptionist clarified. "I've set them up in room three. Do you want me to bring in a tray of drinks?"

I mumbled a non-distinct reply and ended the call.

I brought up my calendar to check my daily schedule. I wouldn't have booked in any meetings for my first day back. Today was designated for playing catch-up.

I scanned the roster and to my surprise, there it was. Highlighted in yellow and flashing back at me.

**14:00 – MEETING – Mr Chrome**

"What the hell?" I shook my head. "I don't understand…"

From her corner of the office Jaz sat up straighter, caution washing over her face.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"I'm not sure," I muttered.

I stood up from my desk and headed for the door, Jaz following close behind. We descended the stairwell to the first floor and turned a corner, walking slowly down to room three at the end of the hallway. I shot Sawyer a quick glance as we passed him, and I was sure I saw him signal something to Jaz.

My palm rested on the handle, hesitating before twisting it and thrusting the door open.

My heart jumped into my throat. My feet ground into the carpet, my eyes flickering between the two men sat around the table in the middle of the narrow room.

I clenched my jaw.

"Let me guess," I sighed. "Your first name is Mono?"

Christian raised his head and lightly shrugged his shoulders.

I couldn't hide the way my body reacted to being in his presence, despite the annoyance that was oozing through my veins. I could feel the hairs at the back of my neck standing to attention, my mouth and lips turning dry.

_So much for keeping anything related to Christian out of the building..._

He squinted at Taylor, who was sat opposite, and nodded to the door, gesturing for him to leave. Taylor rose and joined Jaz, closing the door behind them, leaving me and Christian alone.

I crossed my arms around myself.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Hello to you, too," he grunted back. He pooled his hands together in his lap. His expression was straight and firm, revealing nothing.

"You didn't answer my question," I replied, my tone harsher than I had intended it to sound.

Unease was building from deep within the pit of my stomach.

How many people saw him come in?

"What are you doing here?" I repeated.

"Thought I'd drop in," he said nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders once more.

"You could have sent a text. You could have replied to the text I sent you this morning."

"I was busy."

I narrowed my eyes. "And you don't think I'm busy now? Why didn't you message and ask to meet during lunch?"

"I had a meeting then," he sighed. He scratched the side of his face. "So I decided to come see you now."

"And instead of checking if I'm free like a normal person would do, you decided to hack into my calendar and force me away from my desk, pretending you're somebody else?" I frowned, cocking my head to the side. "Was it supposed to be funny? Mr Chrome?"

He shrugged again.

It was starting to frustrate me, every time he rolled his shoulders with disinterest.

"Christian, you know my work is off limits," I reminded him, the words hissing through my teeth as I tried to steady my breaths. "You can't come here whenever you want. You can't dictate my diary."

"Is it so bad that I'm here?" he scowled back.

I inhaled a deep breath.

I didn't want to say that the answer was yes. Especially now. Considering earlier events.

"Why are you here?" I asked, gentler this time.

"There's something we need to discuss."

"Can't it wait?"

He shook his head. "No. It's important."

"Fine," I sighed. "What is it?"

"It's about the wedding," he announced. He sat up in his seat, bringing his shoulders back, his chin lifting so he could stare straight at me. "We still haven't set a date. It's time we sorted it out."

My brows shot up into my hairline.

"Seriously?" I snorted. "That's why you're here? That's what is so important? The wedding?"

"It's not important to you?" his frown deepened.

"I didn't mean it like that," I quickly shook my head. "It's just -"

"We can't keep stalling on this," he interrupted. "We should have set a date long before now."

I pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation.

We had spoken about the wedding more times than I could remember, and each time he had made it abundantly clear he was eager to set a date. We had tossed around a couple of ideas, but the conversation never got far enough to set anything in stone.

His wandering hands usually put an end to the discussion.

"I'm at work," I reminded him.

"And?"

"We can talk about this later."

"No, we can talk about it now," he grumbled. "I'm here. You're here. How about the start of next month?"

"What!?" I shrieked. "No. Christian… Look, I'm at work. I need to get back to work."

He clenched his jaw and it was his turn to tilt his head.

"Why are you hesitating?" he asked.

"I'm not hesitating," I shook my head.

"You are," he nodded, challenging me. "We have been engaged for over a month and you have no desire to set a date."

"You make it sound like it's been years."

"It feels like it," he huffed.

"It's been five weeks. That's all. I'm sure most couples don't rush into making a decision."

"We're not like most couples. I thought you knew that," he whined. He jumped to his feet and began buttoning his jacket. "I came here in the hope of finally moving this forward, but I can see we're getting nowhere."

"Now isn't the right time to talk about this," I told him. "I'm at work. I have stuff to do. You can't come here and just expect me to drop everything for you."

He twisted his head from me. An unfamiliar bitterness spread across his taut expression.

"If you've changed your mind, just tell me," he muttered. "If you don't want to get married –"

"Did I say that?" I cut him off. "I haven't changed my mind. You know I haven't."

"Do I?" he shrugged. Again. "You don't seem at all interested in making plans, or to even start thinking about it."

"Because it's been five minutes," I shot back. "What's the rush?"

"What's the hold up?"

I growled a noise under my breath and dropped against the wall behind me.

"What is wrong with you today?" I huffed. "First, you leave before I wake up and don't even bother to leave a note. Then you don't reply to my messages, and now you come here acting like a dick. What's the score?"

"You –"

"Did someone piss in your coffee this morning?" I continued.

"This is important," he declared, raising his voice at me. "Our wedding. Our relationship. It's important… or at least it is to me."

"Whoa, hold up a second!" I lifted my hands in protest. "Do not throw this back on me. I have not given you any reason to question my commitment to us. None… All I'm saying is that you can't come here and disrupt my day to discuss something that isn't life or death."

"I can't come to your office but you can come to mine?" he scowled. "I can't come here to discuss something as important as our wedding, but you can come to my building, unannounced, and waltz into my office anytime you want a quickie?"

I jerked my head back, almost whacking it against the wall.

I let my eyes scan his face and body, trying desperately to find the man I love behind the harsh mask he was currently sporting.

"I'm leaving," he said through gritted teeth. "You can get back to your work."

"Christian?"

He swerved around me, yanking the door open and storming out into the hall. I reached across to grab his arm but he moved too fast, my fingers falling down to my side.

I followed him, picking up my pace to close the gap mounting between us. Before I could say anything, he was gone. He slammed the main doors open and pounded onto the street.

"Ana?"

Taylor snapped his head to me, his eyes pinpoint and clouded with concern.

"What's the matter with him?" I shook my head. "He just stormed out. He got angry for no reason."

Taylor stared through the front door but didn't speak. He huffed a deep breath.

"What's wrong with him?"

"He's having a bad day," he replied.

"No shit," I grunted. "He practically ripped my head off."

"What did he want to talk to you about?"

"The wedding… He didn't tell you why he was coming here?"

He shook his head. "He has been holed up in his office all day. He came out and said he was coming here, that's it. I've hardly spoken to him."

He returned his focus to me and I saw an unnerving, twisted look envelope his face.

"Has he been in a bad mood all day?" I checked.

He nodded.

"We went for a run this morning," Taylor explained. He stared me in the eye. An icy sensation trickled down my spine. "He woke me up at 4:30 and said he wanted to run. We were hitting it hard for two hours. He wouldn't slow down. I think I've pulled a fucking hamstring trying to keep up with him."

My stomach dropped, a thump detonating in the centre of my torso.

"He went for a run?" I whispered, my shoulders lurching forward.

I glanced out onto the street.

He hasn't gone for a run in a long time. He hasn't needed to run.

Christian used to run when he was stressed out. When he was struggling. When he was trying to exorcise the dark thoughts that were tormenting him.

And whatever he was trying to avoid this morning, it's still bugging him. He hasn't managed to shift it.

"Go after him," I urged. "Keep an eye on him."

"I always do."

"Stay with him," I corrected myself.

His lips twisted into a snarl. "He'll rip my head off," he grunted. "He's been in a foul mood with everyone. We're walking on egg shells over there. It's like the old days."

That sinking feeling struck again.

"Please?" I begged. "He needs a friend looking out for him."

Taylor nodded, as if understanding what I meant, and gave my elbow a tight squeeze before exiting through the doors. He broke into a jog as he turned right, heading in the direction of Grey House.

I was rooted to the spot for a moment, my body unable to move while my mind raced to conclusions.

Christian was fine last night. Perfectly fine. He wasn't tense. He was relaxed, still riding the high from our trip.

Where has that man gone?

What has caused this sudden shift?

I paused and sank my teeth into my lip.

_Elena?_

No.

It can't be her. He has been working so hard on dealing with her manipulation and abuse with Flynn. He has come a long way in recent weeks. We talk about her sometimes and although it is still difficult, neither of us clam up anymore.

But if it's not her, then who's behind this?

I finally dragged myself from the doors and made my way upstairs, slinking back into my office without looking at anyone. My head was bowed to the floor, my fingers twitching to pick up my phone.

Closing the door, I rushed to my desk and dialled Christian's number.

It went straight to voicemail.

"It's me," I muttered once his curt message ended. "Christian, what's wrong? I know something's wrong. You're not acting yourself and it's scaring me. What happened just now… Shit. Don't shut me out. We don't do that, remember? Please, talk to me?"

I hung up and dropped my phone onto my desk.

I stood by the window and stared at Grey House in the near distance.

My day was quickly going from bad to worse.

"I fucking hate Mondays."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello Lovelies,**

**I really hope you enjoy this chapter. It's time to find out what's bothering Christian...**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**SuzB** – Thank you! I'm very excited about this new position, fingers crossed I do okay! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

**Paula** **White** – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

A couple of hours had passed and I was still stewing over my argument with Christian. I didn't understand what had unfolded between us. The way he grilled me about the wedding, insinuating that I didn't care or even want to marry him.

It was extremely out of character.

_No. It's not._

This was old Christian clawing his way back to the forefront.

But I couldn't figure out why he had made another appearance.

Strumming my fingers on my desk, I debated whether to try calling him again. I had left five voicemails and over a dozen texts, nothing of them provoking a response from his end. He was shutting me out. Ignoring me.

I stared at my computer and opened up a new email. If he's slipping back into hardnosed CEO mode, maybe this will do the trick?

I just need him to start talking.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:02**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

It's pretty obvious from your complete radio silence that you don't want to talk, but I'm hoping you'll at least listen to what I have to say. Or, rather, read it.

I don't know what has upset you. I don't know if someone or something has unnerved you. I won't know unless you tell me. But, either way, I want to help you.

I know this isn't about the wedding.

Stop shutting me out. I am here and willing to listen.

Ana

* * *

I waited a moment after hitting send, fully expecting him to delete my message without even opening it.

_Ping._

My heart thumped as I saw a reply hit my inbox.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:05**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

_This isn't about the wedding._

I thought I made myself clear? This is very much about the wedding.

More importantly, I thought you were busy? Too busy to talk?

* * *

I clamped down on my tongue and took a deep breath. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising, but I fought hard to suppress my budding frustration.

This is what he wants. It's what he does. He winds up other people as a way of deflecting the heat from himself. If he doesn't want to talk, he'll make sure he pisses you off enough so you don't want to talk to him.

I won't give in.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:09**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

Answer me this: would you be happy if an employee allowed their personal life to interrupt work without it being an emergency? Would you be happy if their loved ones dropped in without any notice?

I'm guessing the answer is no.

We've talked about work. When I'm here, I need to be on my game. I thought you understood how much this means to me? You know how hard I have fought to even get this far.

Once again, I know this isn't about the wedding. Not really.

Please tell me what is actually bothering you?

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:12**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

I will concede on that point. I wouldn't allow it.

But, as I said, this is about the wedding. OUR WEDDING.

The fact you have no desire to set a date or even start making plans is bothering me. It shows me you don't care.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:13**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

That's bullshit. I do care.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:15**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

Why won't you allow us to set a date then?

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:16**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

I haven't prevented us from doing that in the first place!

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:17**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

You haven't prompted the conversation or made any effort in pushing this forward…

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:18**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

I just don't see what the rush is. That's all.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:19**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

Isn't wanting to start our life together enough of a reason?

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:21**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

We're already spending our life together.

I'm in this for the long haul. I have been since day one, long before you proposed to me.

I haven't done anything wrong here.

* * *

There was a long delay before I received his next message.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:32**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

Be honest with me – have you changed your mind?

* * *

I felt a lump form in the base of my throat.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:35**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

No.

You shouldn't need to ask that question. You should already know the answer.

I haven't changed my mind. Nothing will ever make me change my mind. Not even your shitty attitude or bad temper -

* * *

I sat back in my chair and wondered what else to add.

I needed him to know – be one hundred percent sure – that this isn't something he should be questioning.

* * *

Christian, I know something else is behind this outburst and it's not the wedding. It's something bigger than this. I know you like the back of my hand. I can't always read you but I do know when something is wrong.

Whatever it is, you can tell me. Even if it doesn't make sense, just let it out and get it off your chest. Please? I'll never judge you. I'll never put pressure on you. All I want is for you to be okay and happy – neither of which you are right now.

I love you.

I have always loved you.

I'm here.

Your Ana x

* * *

I pressed send and rubbed my hands down my tired face.

Today has been the epitome of a shit day. Tomorrow couldn't come quick enough.

The bleep of a new message pulled my fingers from my eyes, my attention lifting to my screen again.

* * *

**From: Christian Grey**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:40**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

Thank you.

I'm sorry.

Talk later?

* * *

I managed a slight smile.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Christian Grey**

**Date: 17 September 2012 16:41**

**Subject: You can't ignore me forever.**

I'll see you later.

A x

* * *

Christian got home before I did, his R8 neatly parked in its usual spot next to my grey TT.

I took the elevator on my own, dismissing Jaz and Sawyer for the day. As soon as the sliding doors opened into the apartment, I was enveloped by sombre music. The sound of the piano made my gut twist, like a knife plummeting straight through me, its significance hitting me with a thud.

I placed my bag and jacket on the sideboard and kicked off my shoes, then shuffled over to the piano. We had moved it closer to the windows during our recent renovations, making room for the new L-shaped purple couch that took up most of the space.

Upon firing the spiteful Gia Matteo, Christian and I had thought long and hard about who could help us redesign the penthouse. After a lot of consideration and a lot of promises on her part, we agreed to let Mia step up to the task. And she proved more than a perfect match for the job. She was as ruthless as Christian when it came to cracking the whip on slow builders and decorators, but she also showed the same infectious charm as Elliot in order to haggle prices and get us better deals on our new furniture.

After completing the job in record time, Mia spoke candidly – and loudly - about her excitement to turn this endeavour into a business. She wasn't keen on being the only Grey without a real job. Most of us thought she was kidding when she raised the possibility of starting up an interior design business, but Christian saw something in her plans. He promised to sit down and look over her plans, willing to invest more than just his time in her pipe dreams.

Even passing through the apartment, I couldn't help but be in awe of how different everywhere looked. It was almost unrecognisable in every way, each room getting a much-needed facelift. For the seating and dining area, Mia had convinced us to welcome vibrant jewel tones into the space. Christian wasn't sure until he saw the whole thing come together. From the amethyst couch and chaise longue to the sapphire rugs, the opal drapes and rose quartz lighting… it clashed but worked at the same time. It was a world away from the previous dreary, monochrome design, the place truly feeling like home now.

My one true home, however, was currently hunched over his piano, his back to me as I approached.

His shoulders were arched and his head was bowed, a soft sway moving through his body as he played his pained composition.

I crept up behind him and lightly set on my hands on his shoulders. He didn't flinch as I touched him, his fingers still sliding up and down the keys. He continued playing for a beat, ending his tune on a harsh chord.

"I'm sorry," he muttered once the music had stopped. "I'm so sorry."

Draping my arms over his shoulders, I hugged him tight. "You're not yourself today, are you?" I checked. He shook his head. "What's happened? You were fine yesterday."

He hesitated, his bare feet scuffing the wooden floors while he prepared himself to speak.

"Today would have been her birthday," he finally revealed in a taut whisper.

A furrow twitched through my brows.

"My birth mother," he quickly added.

"Oh –"

I was caught off guard by his response.

"I'd completely forgotten about it," he said, gruffly. "It didn't cross my mind until I woke up this morning. Then it hit me. Like a fucking steam train."

I held him close to me, my chin resting on the top of his head.

"It hit me all at once," he grumbled. "It was too much. Everything came flooding back. All those thoughts. All those emotions."

"You got up and went for a run?"

He nodded.

"I wanted to block it out. Block her out."

"Did it work?"

He snorted under his breath.

"Is it her or the pimp?" I asked. "Which of them are tormenting you the most?"

"Her," he confirmed. "I only feel anger where he's concerned, but with her… there's so much more to it. I can't put it into words. She was my mother, for fuck's sake. She gave birth to me and then allowed me to suffer like that? She gave up on me."

I closed my eyes, hoping to stem the wave of sadness rippling through me.

"Is this a one off or have you been thinking about her a lot recently?"

"It's a one off," he said. I let out a small sigh of relief. "I think I've been too busy thinking about other things. I didn't have room in my head for her."

"That shit with Elena kept us both on our toes," I agreed. "And now she's out of the picture –"

"My other issues have burst back onto the scene," he huffed. "I'm never going to be free of it, am I?"

"You will," I assured him.

I wanted to pull him as close as I could and never let go. I wanted to shroud him with love and affection, rid him of the painful memories circling his mind.

"How did you know today's her birthday?" I wondered. I needed to keep him talking, even if he wanted to close off and end the conversation. "When did you find out?"

"When I was about fourteen," he shrugged. "My parents have files on all of us. It has information about our birth families. They compiled it for medical reasons. I got curious one day and read it."

"Right…"

"Her name was Ella," he revealed. His voice was strained. "She came from a good family but for some reason she went off the rails. Maybe she got in with the wrong crowd? Who knows… Her parents kicked her out when she was sixteen and she moved in with her grandparents. She flunked out of school and got arrested a couple times for stealing. She ran away when she turned eighteen and it's believed she started working the streets not long after."

"Do you know when she started taking drugs?"

He shook his head.

"She was admitted to hospital because of an overdose when she was 21," he said. "She was eighteen weeks pregnant at the time."

My heart sank. I slammed my eyes shut.

"I think she was trying to get rid of me," he muttered. "Selfish bitch."

"Maybe there's other reasons she OD'd," I suggested. He yanked his head to the side and frowned. "I'm not sticking up for her or trying to make excuses, but there could be more to her story. Does her file include details about her life and death? More than just the bare facts?"

He slowly shook his head.

"So you're piecing the story together from the little bits you know?"

He didn't react.

"Baby, you remember what Flynn said, right?" I urged. I stood to the side and cupped his face between my hands. "Healing means opening your mind up to alternative narratives."

He rolled his cheek into my left palm and gently kissed it.

"I think I'm letting the fear get to me," he whispered.

"What are you frightened of?"

His throat bobbed and his eyes dropped to his lap.

"All my life I've been preyed on and abused," he explained. "Bastards have trodden all over me, treated me like shit. I wouldn't let anyone get close to me because of it."

"You've let me get close to you."

He lifted his eyes to mine and I instantly understood what he meant.

"You let me in and now you're worried I'll walk away?" I guessed. He nodded. "You're worried I'll abandon you like she did?"

A loud sigh escaped him.

"You don't want to get hurt again," I surmised. "Oh, Christian…"

I pushed my way onto his lap and wrapped my arms around him. His face nestled into the crook of my neck.

"I'm not going to leave you," I promised him. "You know that… I'm not your birth mother."

"I know," he hummed. "But today, those worries have resurfaced. Thinking about her and what she did, it's made me scared again. Scared that I'll lose the peace I've finally found."

"And that's me?"

He nodded again.

"Baby," I shook my head. "You don't need to worry."

"But –"

"Look at how much we've already been through," I interrupted. "I'm still here. I could have walked away but I didn't. I'm here because I want to be. I'm here because I love you."

He released a long breath. His hands crept around my waist, his palms pressing into my sides.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," he sighed.

"You do," I countered. "You do know. Those thoughts came into your head and you let them take control, instead of stopping them in their tracks."

"Easier said than done sometimes…"

"I know it is," I nodded. "I know it's not easy. But you know you have to work hard to fight those thoughts as soon as they appear."

He began chewing on the inside of his cheek. I lifted his chin and forced him to look me in the eye.

"It's normal to have blips," I reminded him. "It's all part of the process. It happens. I've had wobbles. You've had to prop me up more times than I can remember. It didn't mean I wasn't coping or that I wasn't getting better."

The muscles in his jaw twitched beneath my fingers.

"I was a complete dick to you, for no reason," he grumbled. "I was pushing you away. I was winding you up."

"I know," I smiled. "I knew what you were doing."

"It doesn't make sense," he shook his head. "I was pushing you away even though I'm terrified of you leaving me!"

I paused for a moment and then shrugged.

"It kinda makes sense," I hummed. "You would rather push someone away than face the pain of them leaving you. You want to be in control."

He narrowed his gaze.

"You should have been a therapist."

"I'm just further along in my recovery," I chuckled. "But that's okay. I haven't experienced as much pain as you have."

"Why are you being so understanding?"

"Because I know you're not actually a dick," I snorted. "I knew the real you was lurking behind that front."

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you," he muttered.

"You're forgiven."

"I didn't mean any of it," he shook his head. "I know your work is important to you. I know I can't just walk in whenever I want and expect you to drop everything."

"You did have a valid point about me coming to your office," I said. He was about to protest but I cut him off, shaking my head. "I come to see you whenever I want. Sometimes I don't even bother to check if you're free. It's double standards if I complain about you doing the same."

"But I'm the boss where I work."

"It doesn't matter. This has to be a two-way street."

"I like you coming to visit me," he pouted.

"Even so, we need to keep some sort of balance on both sides," I suggested. "When we're at work, we should both be focused on what we're doing. Unless it's an emergency."

He lazily nodded his agreement, accepting my words.

"Christian?"

"Hm?"

"Did you really think I had changed my mind about marrying you?" I asked, lowering my voice to a whisper.

He shook his head. "I shouldn't have questioned you. I let my mouth run away from me."

"I don't want you to think I'm not committed," I mumbled. "Because I am."

"I know you are. I was being an ass."

He gulped hard and he sat staring at me for a second.

"She really fucked me up, didn't she?" he grunted. I nodded. "She was only in my life for four years, most of which I can't remember, but in that time she managed to completely screw me over."

"You have to remember you're not that little kid anymore," I urged him. "He's still inside you and he'll always be there, but you can set him free. You don't need to protect him anymore. You can let him stay in the past and move on with your life. It's okay to move on now."

"I wish I could forget all of it."

"I think everyone feels that way about something," I smiled shyly. "You'll learn to live with this, like you have with what Elena did to you. One day this won't hurt as much, either."

He frowned at me.

"How come you remember this shit and I don't?" he huffed.

"Maybe it's because I actually listen to my therapist?" I winked.

He arched a brow.

I dropped my head onto his shoulder and hugged him hard.

"I'll never understand why you're so patient with me," he breathed in my ear. "I'll never get why you put up with me."

"Ditto…"

"I don't deserve you."

"You can quit talking like that," I shook my head against him. "You're worthy of being loved and understood and supported. You're worthy of happiness. You deserve it all."

He tightened his hold on me.

"Do you want me to call Flynn and see if he can meet with you?"

I felt him nod against me.

"Try not to get too wrapped up in what's happened today," I said. I pulled my head back and smiled at him. "This is a blip. A small bump in the road."

"Thank you," he sighed.

He leaned forward and pecked his lips to mine, his kiss light and soft.

"Will you come with me?" he asked. "Not to sit in, just to be there?"

"Of course," I nodded. "Whatever you need."

"Maybe you can catch up with Rhian?"

"Maybe. It has been a little while since I last saw her."

"You need her less and less these days," he observed.

"I feel stronger than I used to. Less anxious."

"It suits you," he said, finally managing a smile.

Seeing his lips curl upwards brought some relief to my troubled insides.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello Lovelies,**

**I hope you're all doing well and staying safe. It's a scary time right now, so I hope this chapter can bring you all some much needed relief and escapism. Sending big love and hugs to you all.**

**More coming soon.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**LavendarJade** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

**B** – Thank you so much for your review and feedback! I'm thrilled I have successfully portrayed the long-lasting effects trauma has on survivors. I'm so sorry you've experienced trauma and similar issues – sending you love and well wishes! Much Love x

**Iamdbomangmail** – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter too! Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! The shoe is definitely on the other foot now, but luckily Ana is there to help him back on his feet. Much Love x

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! It is sad he's still suffering with his childhood trauma, but I'm sure he'll get better and learn to live with his anger and upset. He's a tough cookie and with Ana on his side, he's sure to conquer anything. Much Love x

**Zee** – Thank you! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

* * *

I drove us to the Flynn house in my TT, shirking security for this particular excursion. Christian was pretty much silent for the entire car ride. I looked over a couple times and found him staring down at his hands in his lap. He picked at the skin around his thumbnails. I would have given anything to take away his distress.

Flynn had agreed to see Christian at home, despite normally conducting their sessions in his office across town. But it was late in the day and being the family-man he is, Flynn had already finished work for the day. He was making an exception for Christian and I was unbelievably grateful for that.

I gave Christian a hug before he followed Flynn down the hall, heading for Rhian's study for some privacy. It was a positive thing, him wanting to talk to Flynn about his troubles. He knew he needed help and he was willing to accept it. This was a huge step.

"He'll be fine," I whispered to myself trying to believe my words.

Hearing a chorus of child's play pouring out of the open doorway to my left, I picked up my feet and moved through to the family room. I grinned as I spotted Rhian sitting on the couch, curled into one corner, while her six-year-old sons rolled around on the carpet.

"Hello stranger," Rhian greeted me, her infectious smile high across her face. Her black hair was piled high into a bun, her porcelain skin glowing underneath a light layer of makeup. "John said Christian was coming over. I wondered if you'd join him."

"I hope you don't mind us intruding?"

"Shut up and come sit," she waved it off, laughing. "The kids are having some playtime before bed. I could use some adult conversation. They're driving me a bit crazy!"

I climbed over the mountain of toys scattered on the floor, manoeuvring carefully around the twins as they wriggled, playing with plastic dinosaurs and dumper trucks. It made my cheeks bunch together, seeing them having fun and chuckling through their game.

Sitting down next to Rhian, I exhaled a heavy, exhausted sigh.

"It's good to see you," Rhian said, nudging me with her hand. "I wish it was under better circumstances, though… How is he doing?"

"Not great," I shook my head. "I think it's just a bad day. He's been doing fine recently. We both have."

"You have?" she checked. She curled tighter into the couch, tucking her legs underneath herself, her arm draped over the cushion on her lap. "I haven't seen you in a little while. How have you been?"

"Good. Really good," I nodded. I smiled. "I haven't had any attacks. No anxiety."

"Glad to hear it," she beamed. "Still practising those grounding techniques?"

"Every day," I announced proudly. "Don't worry, I'm still working hard on it. Every day I make time to check in with myself."

"That's a very positive thing to do," she agreed. "Mindfulness does help, especially with anxiety. It's important to reset the brain sometimes."

"I was doing my breathing techniques earlier, at work," I revealed. I pursed my lips and shrugged. "I've had a bit of a tough day."

"With what?"

"Well, Christian had a meltdown," I said. "And then there's some issues at work."

Deciding to park the talk about Christian, Rhian honed in on me. As always, she was keen to focus on me and my problems. I'll always be her patient first.

"What's up with work?"

"The owner died and now his wife is selling the company," I explained. "If we don't get a buyer, there will be redundancies."

"Oh dear," she frowned, shaking her head. "And you're worried for your job?"

I nodded. "No one's safe. I get the impression they'll take no prisoners."

"That must be stressful for you, not knowing what will happen," she hummed. "The uncertainty."

"Doesn't help I overheard one of my co-workers making comments about me," I grumbled. "She insinuated I only got the job because of Christian, so I must therefore be untouchable."

"That reeks of jealously to me."

"Regardless, it made me feel like trash," I said, conscious of my language in front of the boys. In truth, it made me feel like a steaming pile of shit. "I don't want anyone thinking I'm using Christian's name or influence like that."

Rhian stared at me, fixing me with her pin-point navy blue eyes.

"Do you genuinely care what that woman thinks of you?" she asked. "Is she important to you or your job?"

I slowly shook my head.

"Ana," she sang my name and I braced myself for one of her pep talks. "Is it that you don't want anyone to think badly of you, or is it because you worry about people thinking you're some sort of a gold-digger?"

"Both?" I mumbled. I sighed again. "I'm a natural people pleaser, you know I am. I want to be liked, but I don't crave attention… I don't fully understand it myself at times."

"In what way?"

"I couldn't care less what the press has to say about me, but yet I take my colleagues' opinions of me seriously."

"And you can't make sense of that?" she asked. I shook my head. "It does to me. The press is always at a distance, you can choose whether or not to read what they have to say about you. But it's harder to hide from co-workers. It hits closer to home because they are people you have to be around constantly."

"I guess…"

"It always stings when you hear bad things about yourself, but it's how you respond to it that matters," she continued. "You either let it get you down or you brush it off and carry on with your life. There comes a time when you have to accept there will always be at least one person who doesn't like you. Sometimes there is no actual reason why, just that they didn't like the look of your face or the way you walk or the perfume you wear. It doesn't mean anything about you. It's all about them."

I knew she was right. Rhian's always bloody right.

"Do you see this woman outside of work?"

"No," I shook my head.

"Did you consider her a friend before today?"

"No, but she had been nice to me. The 180 in her attitude towards me is what has caught me off guard."

Rhian arched her brow. "I doubt her attitude has changed. It's more likely that her true thoughts have finally come out. I don't normally judge people from what others have said, but she sounds like a snake in the grass to me. You should be wary of her and what she's up to."

I stored her comments away. I trusted her judgment, despite her having never met the two-faced Maria.

"Don't let it get you down," Rhian urged me. "People are going to question you. It's what happens, especially in offices. And especially when your significant other is in the public eye."

"Thanks," I smiled. "I always feel better when I come see you."

"Just doing my job," she winked.

"So, how are you doing?"

"I'm good," she nodded. She glanced down and her smile began to stretch further across her face. "Well, better than good. There's something I've been meaning to tell you –"

"Ana!"

Rhian was cut off by the ear-piercing squeak of her daughter. Harriet was bouncing on the spot in the doorway, her features bright and beaming.

She sprung forward and ran to me, thrusting her beloved stuffed cat onto my lap before she followed it, climbing on top of me. She nestled into my front, her arms and legs wrapping around my sides.

"You're here! You're here!"

"I am," I laughed, hugging her tight. I rubbed her back, moving her dampened hair to the side. She was dressed in neon green pyjamas and smelled of watermelons. "Are you ready for bed after your bath?"

"Yeah," she nodded against me, refusing to lift her head while she crushed me with all her might. "What are you doing here?"

"Christian needed to talk to your dad, so I came with him."

Hearing his name, she yanked her head back, her eyes wide with hope and excitement.

"Uncle Christian's here?"

"He is," I confirmed. "But he's busy with your dad. We shouldn't disturb them."

"Oh," she mouthed, sagging against me.

"I'm sure you'll get chance to see him before you go to bed," I muttered, tucking her dark hair back behind her ears. "I know he'd love to see you. And Kitty."

That seemed to do the trick and she returned her focus to her cat. She pulled it up to her chest and rocked it from side to side.

"I'm practicing," she proclaimed.

"Practicing for what?"

"For when baby arrives," she replied, still staring at her cat.

"Do you mean you're getting a baby doll?" I checked.

She shook her head and glanced up, looking straight over to Rhian. She pointed at her.

"Noooo… The baby is in Mummy's belly, but it's coming out soon."

I frowned hard and snapped my head towards Rhian, seeking clarification.

"It's true," she nodded, releasing a delighted chuckle.

"What?" I gasped, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. "Are you serious? You're pregnant?"

"I hope so," she laughed. She moved the cushion covering her lap and shifted to the side, pulling her t-shirt taut to show off her bump. Her small, slightly rounded bump. "Otherwise it just means I'm getting fat."

My frown returned, deeper now.

"How far along are you?"

"Seven months."

"No way!" I squawked, shaking my head. "There's no way you're seven months! You don't even look pregnant. Not really."

She rubbed a hand over her stomach and smirked.

"I know, it threw me and John off too," she nodded. "I'm carrying all back this time around. It's like the baby's hiding from us… on the plus side, I haven't need to buy any proper maternity clothes yet."

"Is that okay? Having a small bump?" I worried. "Is the baby okay?"

"They're perfectly fine," she confirmed. "I've been poked and prodded like there's no tomorrow, and every test and scan has come back normal. This baby is laying further back, that's all. Harriet did the same until I was six months along, then I got huge. Bigger than I did when I was pregnant with the twins."

"So, you might get bigger?"

"I'm sure I'll pop eventually," she nodded. "Probably once baby's turned around and got into position. They're too busy standing up right now, kicking the crap out of my bladder."

"Mummy has to wee all the time," Harriet laughed to herself.

I stared in awe at Rhian's bump, drawn to it now I knew it was there.

"I can't believe it," I whispered, grinning wildly. "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Your recovery was more important than my pregnancy," she shrugged, waving it off without concern. "I wanted you to know I was there for you, no matter what. I didn't want you to start worrying that I'd disappear mid-way through your therapy plan."

I was touched by her selflessness.

"Rhian –"

"And you shouldn't worry now, either," she continued. "Having another monster to look after isn't going to change anything. I'll still be here, just with a little person hanging off me!"

If I wasn't holding Harriet in that moment, I would have hopped along the couch and enveloped her in a huge embrace.

"Congratulations! I'm so happy for you," I said, stretching out my hand for hers. "Was this planned?"

"No. God no," she snorted. "No, definitely didn't plan this. We thought we were done on the baby front."

"Must have been a shock then?"

"A fairly huge one," she nodded. "They might not be planned, but they are very much wanted."

Rhian's attention shifted to Harriet.

"I've got all the kids in training," she revealed. "They're all old enough to help out when the baby comes. Even if it's just to bring me nappies or bottles."

"It's working," I laughed, hugging Harriet as she swayed her pretend kitten-baby from side to side. "Are you excited for the new baby?"

"Yeah," Harriet hummed. "I want it to be a boy."

"You want a baby brother?" I asked. "You don't want a sister?"

"Nooo," she shook her head. "I like being the only girl. It makes me special. I like being special."

My heart was melting.

"You'll always be special to us, honey," Rhian soothed her. "You'll always be my little girl, right?"

Harriet smiled and gently nodded. She leaned back and flopped down against my chest again.

"Ana?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"Can I be the only girl in your wedding?"

I couldn't help but grin at her question.

Rhian simply rolled her eyes.

"I can't promise that, sweetie," I said. She immediately pouted. "You see, Taylor has a daughter and I'm sure she'll want to get involved… however, you could be one of our flower girls. Would you like that?"

Her lips softened.

"A flower girl?"

"Yes," I nodded. "You'll get to walk down the aisle and wear a very pretty dress."

"With glitter?"

I could almost hear Christian screaming 'no' in response.

"Whatever you want," I smirked. "You can pick out whatever dress you like."

She showed off her toothy smile again and jumped up and down on my thighs.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

I pulled her into my arms and pecked a kiss to the top of her head.

"When is it?"

"When is what?"

"Your wedding?" she prompted, peeking up at me. "When is your wedding?"

I pressed my lips together.

"We're still working on a date," I said. "I'll tell you as soon as we've decided."

"Make it soon," she ordered. "Or I'll be too big for my dress."

"Harriet –" Rhian sighed, shaking her head. "You haven't even got a dress yet. Now stop pestering and go pick out a book. If you ask nicely, Ana might read you a story."

Begrudgingly, she slipped off my lap and shuffled out of the room, dragging her cat along the floor beside her.

_I hope she doesn't do that with the baby!_

Rhian eased forward and dropped her voice.

"Is everything okay on the wedding front?" she asked, as intuitive as ever. "I noticed your hesitation. What's up?"

"Christian wants to set a date ASAP," I revealed, rolling my eyes. "It's caused a stink between us today."

"You don't want to set a date?"

"It's not that," I shook my head.

"What then?"

"He wants to get married as soon as," I explained. "He wants to rush everything and get it done and dusted. I don't. I want time to actually plan our big day."

"That's reasonable," she agreed.

"I don't see how we can plan a real wedding in just a few weeks," I said. "He's thinking about the start of next month, for crying out loud."

"He's certainly eager," she hummed. "Have you spoken to him about your reasons why you want to hold off?"

I shook my head. "When I said I didn't see the need to rush everything, he accused me of not wanting to get married to him."

"He did?" she frowned. I nodded. "Did he mean it or was he acting out?"

"The latter," I replied. "He said he didn't mean it, that he was letting his doubts get the better of him. And I believe him, it's just… I'm worried that if I tell him why I want to wait, he'll get annoyed again."

"You know you need to talk to him," she urged. "Realistically, how long are you thinking you'll need to plan it?"

"I don't know, not long," I shrugged. "I don't want a long engagement. I would marry him tomorrow if I could click my fingers and have everything sorted. But I can't do that."

"Weddings are inherently stressful."

"Exactly," I nodded. "The last thing I want is for the build up to the wedding to be any more stressful than it needs to be. I don't want to get to the day itself and be worn out."

"Tell him that," Rhian said. "Tell him everything you just told me. It makes sense Ana."

"I –"

"Christian isn't completely unreasonable," she muttered, adding in a wink as I shot her a glance. "He will understand. You just need to talk to him."

"I will," I nodded slowly. "I need him to feel better first, though."

"John will sort him out," she smiled. "He'll work his magic, don't worry."

* * *

Christian was with Flynn for over an hour, emerging from the study seeming more relaxed than he had been when he entered. I could still see and feel tension in his body, but he didn't look pained anymore.

Arriving back home, I guided him straight into the bedroom and left him sitting on the bed while I headed through to the bathroom. I leaned across the side of the tub and opened up the hot water faucet.

Bath time was our talking time. The warmth of the water, the dimmed lights, the intimacy of skin on skin, it helped create the ultimate safe place for us to speak freely with one another.

It was also the place where I could look after him, help him wash away the day's stresses and unwind before bed.

After the day we've both had, we certainly need a good night's sleep.

I called him into the bathroom as I slipped down into the water, pushing myself as far back as I could. He undressed and stepped in, lowering and sitting down in front of me. He reclined into me, his back against my chest. I immediately wrapped my arms around him.

"How are you feeling now?" I asked quietly, working my hands over his chest, smoothing the water and bubbles into his skin.

"Much better," he released on a long exhale. "Thank you for taking me to see Flynn."

"Any time, baby," I smiled. I nuzzled my face into his neck, kissing him lightly. "Any time."

"Flynn helped me understand what I was feeling," he said. "Understand why I was feeling so angry. Angrier than I have felt in a while… It's hard, when you can't get a grip on what's happening inside your own head."

"I know," I nodded. I had been there. I knew exactly how scary it can be. "Are you going to work on it with Flynn? This stuff about your birth mother?"

"He says it'd be useful to start digging into it again," he nodded. He cleared his throat. "I found it difficult talking about her again. I haven't spoken about her for months. Haven't even thought about her… It's hard to believe I used to think about her every single day. I could never get her out of my head."

"Is that what scared you the most, suddenly having her in your thoughts again?"

"Yes," he whispered. His head dipped forward slightly. "I was losing control. That's what scared me. Flynn said I need to work harder on spotting those thoughts as soon as they appear. Work on that behavioural cycle shit again. He's concerned that anxiety is starting to creep back in."

I had discussed behavioural cycles with Rhian during our early sessions together.

Everyone, regardless of whether they suffer from anxiety or not, has a cycle that consists of thoughts, physical feelings and actions. Each segment works together, in a constant loop, one triggering the other to create a chain. It varies from person to person, the order in which they kick in. For me, I always felt the physical symptoms of anxiety first – the difficulty in breathing, my throat closing up, sweat trickling down my spine – and it was quickly followed by thoughts of danger and fear. Once the thoughts arrived, I ran. I ran from my problems, from the situation that frightened me.

It's crucial for Christian to understand what his cycle looks like. If he can spot the early signs, he can intervene and stop himself from spiralling in future. He can stop and take a breath, think and then react logically. Calmly.

"You know I think CBT is bullshit," he huffed. "It's psycho-babble to me."

"It really helped me recover," I remined him. "It doesn't work for everyone but –"

"I need to give it a try," he interjected, knowing what I was going to say. "It's all connected. The PTSD, anxiety… I have to tackle all aspects of it in order to get better."

"You have to trust Flynn to help you," I said. I rested my chin on his shoulder. "He's the best person for the job."

"Besides you…"

He dropped further down into the water until the back of his head was nestled between my breasts. He plucked my hands from his chest and linked our fingers.

"I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you today," he murmured.

"You've already apologised."

"I know, but I need to say it again," he shook his head. "It was uncalled for."

"It's forgotten. Done and dusted, in the past. You're forgiven."

He gently kissed each of my knuckles, spreading further apologies across my hands.

"Did you know Rhian's pregnant?" I asked, steering the conversation along.

"What?" he jerked his head to the side and stared up at me, his brows furrowed. "Seriously?"

"Very," I nodded. "She's seven months pregnant."

"Fuck off!" he gasped, his eyes widening. I laughed at his reaction. "Jesus Christ, how did they keep that quiet?"

"Her bump is small," I shrugged. "She told me she didn't want to say anything until I was doing better."

"Always putting others first. Typical Rhian," Christian snorted. He paused for a moment, disappearing into his thoughts. "Four children… _Wow_."

He retreated further into himself, his eyes glazing over.

I watched him and then inhaled a deep breath.

"Can we talk about the wedding?" I whispered. His eyes lifted to mine. "Without arguing this time?"

He nodded and sat up, splashing water against the sides of the tub as he twisted to face me.

"Are you annoyed that we haven't set a date yet?" I checked. "I need to know."

He hesitated.

"I'm not annoyed," he shook his head. "Just mildly frustrated."

"Why?"

"Because I'm impatient," he shrugged. "You know I am. I've always lived my life in the fast lane. Especially where we're concerned."

I had to agree with him on that last point. Every step of our relationship has moved at lightning speed.

Damn it, we moved in together without even talking about it first! It just happened.

"But isn't there a part of you that wants to sit back and relish in this time? Enjoy being engaged?" I wondered.

"No," he shook his head. "Because I want to be married. I don't want to wait months or years for it to happen."

"Neither do I," I explained.

He frowned. "You don't?"

"No," I shook my head. "I don't want to wait years. I only want a bit of time."

"Why?"

"I don't want to end up regretting anything," I said. "I don't want to look back in five or ten years and wish we had done things differently."

"Are you talking about the wedding itself?" he checked.

"Yes… Just the wedding. The planning of it," I clarified. "The flowers, colour scheme, venue, my dress… I hate the idea of getting any part of it wrong."

"I think I understand," he hummed. "You want time to plan?"

"Exactly," I breathed. "That's all. I don't want to rush around trying to pull this together last minute."

He nodded slowly, his lips forming an O. I could the realisation washing over him.

"I'm not getting cold feet about marrying you," I said. "I want to get it right. I want our wedding to be perfect and exactly right for us."

"I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," I shook my head. "I should have made myself clearer… I hope this doesn't come as a surprise to you, but I only plan on getting married once. It makes sense to get it right."

He managed a warm smile and nodded. I reached out and waited for him to place his hands in mine.

"I panicked and assumed the worst," he huffed.

"I didn't help settle your doubts though. But I want to now," I said. "I want to set a date."

"Really?" he arched his brow. "You don't have to say that, not to appease me."

"No, I mean it," I assured him. "We should set a date."

"As long as it's not next week?" he quipped.

"Exactly," I laughed. "What's your time frame?"

"Honestly?"

I nodded.

"I'd like to be married by the end of the year," he revealed in a low voice. I resisted the urge to react. I needed him to explain his choice. "I want us to end the year on a high, after all the shit we've been through."

"You want to be married within the same year of us meeting each other?"

He nodded. "It feels right, somehow."

"It certainly fits in with our habit of moving fast," I chuckled under my breath.

"Too fast for you?" he wondered, shyly asking the question.

I paused and thought it through for a moment.

Tried to see if there was a way to compromise.

_It's mid-September now…_

"By the end of the year?" I checked. He nodded once. "Okay, what about December 31st?"

"New Year's Eve?" he repeated the date back to me. His eyes lit up, his smile reaching them for the first time all day. "You're serious? You want us to get married on New Year's Eve?"

"I'm game if you are," I smirked. "It meets your time frame and should give us enough time to plan everything properly."

He launched himself on me, yanking me into his chest.

"I would love to marry you then," he breathed, pecking his lips to mine.

"It's a date then," I giggled.

He exhaled a long, relieved sigh, pressing his forehead to mine.

"My god…" he muttered. "_New Year's Eve_… That date."

"What about it?"

"It's the date I was found," he explained. My jaw dropped. "I was found on December 31st, four days after my mother killed herself."

"Wow," I breathed. I shook my head. "Christian, if you want to pick a different –"

"No," he grunted. He kissed me again. "It's perfect. That date has always marked the start of something new for me. Something better, safer, happier."

"Baby…"

I cupped the back of his neck and held him still as I smothered him with my kisses.

"Today's been a real kicker, huh?" he huffed.

"A little."

"How was work?" he asked. "Outside of me barging in and causing an argument?"

I gulped and licked my lips.

"Same old shit," I shrugged. I closed my eyes. "I'm just glad to be home."

Now wasn't the right time to open up about SIP.

He doesn't need to be weighed down with that, not yet.

He's finally happy. I want to keep it that way. He deserves this moment.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello Lovelies,**

**I'm sending lots of love and hugs to each and every one of you. We're living in scary times and we're all in the same boat. I'm praying that we all come out of this sooner rather than later.**

**I hope this chapter gives you some much needed escapism.**

**Much Love and Stay Safe,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**Paula White** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! I love the Flynns, they really do take care of our beloved couple. I hope you're keeping well too. I'm fine, just taking each day at a time. Much Love x

* * *

Thankfully, the week ended on a much better note than it started on, the strain and intense stress from Monday slowly filtering into the distance.

Christian had been a lot calmer since his emergency session with Flynn, but more so after we agreed on a date for the wedding. Having something positive to focus on and look forward to was helping him. We had talked about his birth mother too, Christian sharing some of his anger with me, instead of directing it towards me.

He spoke at length and I listened to every word. He expressed himself and I comforted him. I held him close when he needed reassurance, and made him laugh when he needed something to smile about. I tried to give him what he needed, just like he gave me the strength and confidence to get up and face each day, back when all I wanted to do was stay in bed and hide from the world.

Today felt like one of those mornings, a buzz of anxiety swirling deep in my stomach as I stepped inside SIP.

Things were beginning to return to normal in the building, but an undercurrent of worry was lingering in the air. It was noticeable in rigid spines, raised shoulders and sly whispers. Everywhere I looked, I thought I could see a sideways glance firing my way.

Picking up the stack of paperwork I had sent to the copier, I turned on my heels and walked the length of the room, heading for my office. As I passed Maria's desk, I looked up and caught her eye.

"Problem?" she asked. Her tone was harsh and snippy, but was masked by a smile so fake it could have been made by Mattel. Her voice had drawn the attention of her nearby colleagues, meerkats springing up on the hunt for gossip. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"No, I'm fine."

It was obvious to anyone who happened to stumble across her that Maria Grisley was the type of woman who demanded attention. Craved it. Sought it out wherever she could find it.

Her hair was cut short into a jaw-length bob, full of rich honey tones, her natural colour nowhere to be seen. She was wearing thick-framed glasses that covered most of her face, but her eyes still beamed beneath them, courtesy of gold shimmery eyeshadow.

I stood there for a second, my stride faltering.

_Am I intimidated by her?_

No.

_Do I think she's better than me?_

Again, no.

But I am wary of her.

She's revealed herself to be two-faced, a trait I can't stand in people. I have no idea what lengths she will go to secure her position here.

I was under no illusion that she would happily throw me under a bus if it meant she could reign supreme.

"Would you mind sending over a copy of the notes you took from Wednesday's conference call?" I finally asked her, snapping out of my thoughts.

She narrowed her gaze and shrugged her dainty shoulders.

"I wasn't taking notes," she practically sang to me. She cocked her head to the side. "I assumed you were. I saw you scribbling something down in your notepad."

"You were supposed to be taking minutes," I shot back.

"Not me," she shook her head. "No one asked me to take the minutes… I'm sure if you ask nicely though, Joe or Andy might share their notes with you."

I pressed my lips together, biting hard on my tongue.

I remember specifically asking her to make notes.

"What were you doing in the meeting then, if you weren't writing anything down?" I countered, holding her stare. "What was the point of you even being there?"

"You'd have to ask Hamish, he's my boss. Not Mark and certainly not you," she smirked, adding her latter comment in a whisper. She rolled her chair closer to her desk and turned her attention to her laptop. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do."

I seethed, continuing to glare at her, before I dragged myself away from her desk.

Back in the safety of my office, I slammed the door shut and stormed around my desk, dropping with a groan into my chair.

_Bitch._

I closed my eyes and stole of a moment of peace, but was quickly disturbed by the sound of my iPhone blaring with an incoming call.

My scowl was soon replaced by a grin as I saw the caller's information.

I immediately accepted the video call, holding my phone up as Cal Hunter's face came into view.

"Steele," he grunted my name, his voice that deep gravel I had missed so much. "You free to talk or do you want me to call back?"

"No, I'm free," I nodded. "God, it's good to see you."

"Missed my gorgeous face, huh?" he sneered, dimples pinching at his cheeks.

It had only been a few months since I had last seen Cal, but it might as well have been years. He looked totally different to the stern-faced, perpetually pissed off man I had come to know and love. His dark hair was longer now, tucked behind his ears, his jaw dusted with a thin coating of stubble.

San Diego was clearly suiting him.

"Something like that," I laughed.

"Can't blame you. You tired of that miserable bastard yet?"

"Are you referring to my fiancé?" I arched my brow, but my grin remained proud on my face. "I'll never get tired of him."

"Shame…"

"I'll tell him you send your love, yeah?"

"Tell him I sent this –" He flipped the bird at the screen. "I'm sure he'll find the funny side of it. Eventually."

His wicked laugh filled the room. I simply shook my head at him.

Cal and Christian had never gotten along, the pair of them always butting heads and ribbing one another. I had glimpsed it in the short time I worked with Cal, but apparently it had been exactly the same since they first met several years earlier. As soon as Cal started working for Elena in her chain of seedy clubs, Christian had taken an instant dislike to him. I think it's because they are too much alike – both arrogant, confrontational, true alpha males. Things had taken a turn for the worse, however, when Cal found out about mine and Christian's relationship. He wanted to protect me. He knew there was a strong chance it wouldn't end well, not where Elena was concerned.

None of us could have predicted just how badly things would turn out.

Christian had softened towards Cal after the fire at Maîtrise. He was genuinely worried about him and the injuries he had sustained when the building collapsed under the heat of the flames. Christian knew how much Cal's friendship meant to me, and Cal understood that I had fallen head over heels for Christian. They agreed to make an effort for my sake.

After the fire, Cal decided it was time to get out of the club game. He had had enough and packed up his life here in Seattle, moving down to California to be with his younger brother. Christian paid for their apartment fees, and Trent and Cal's tuitions.

"Christian told me your big plans," I hummed. "Heading back to school?"

Cal nodded. "I start next week," he replied. "I'm studying Mathematics."

"Wow! That's great. Rather you than me though, numbers are not my forte!"

"Years of working behind bars means I'm good on the math front," he shrugged, playing down his skill. It was insane how quickly he could figure out sums that would take me forever to solve. Even with a calculator. "Especially before that evil bitch splashed out on fancy cash registers. I had to do all of it in my fucking head."

"Poor you," I pouted, mocking him.

"You had it easy, Steele."

"You call what I had to do easy? It was far from it!"

"Prancing around in those ridiculous heels, smiling at customers and handing over drinks? Piss easy," he frowned. "At least you didn't have to clean up the mess those dirty bastards made upstairs."

I shuddered at the thought.

"Anyway," I sighed, opting to move the conversation away from Maîtrise. That was firmly in the past. "Is there a particular reason you called?"

"Just wanted to check in with you," he shrugged again. He gave me a soft smile. "I got your message. About the wedding."

I messaged people earlier in the week to confirm the news. Cal was the only person who hadn't responded.

"We are going to send out real invitations," I said. "But I wanted to tell everyone early. In case you all start making other plans, you know?"

"You've chosen New Year's Eve," he reminded me. "Trust me, as long as everyone ends the night drunk or getting laid – or maybe both – you're gonna be fine. No one is gonna say no to a party."

"There's a bit of a difference between a party and a wedding," I chuckled. "But I appreciate the sentiment… you're definitely coming though?"

"Try to stop me," he snorted. "Are you serious? As if I'm going to miss the chance to see the mighty Christian Grey get hitched. I'm still shocked he fucking proposed."

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"You don't know what he used to be like." Cal blew out his cheeks. "God, he was a bastard to everyone. He just wasn't destined for the settling down kind of life. He was a total loner. I don't know how you changed him."

"He fell in love with me," I shrugged. "It's as simple as that."

Cal faked a wretch. "Someone pass me a sick bucket," he groaned.

"It'll be you one day," I taunted him.

He hesitated, looking away from the screen. He pursed his lips.

"Do I get a plus-one?" he asked, quietly. "For the wedding?"

My brows shot up my forehead.

"Do you want to bring a plus-one?" I checked.

"Maybe," he mumbled. "I mean, no one wants to go to a wedding alone. Not unless you plan on screwing a bridesmaid, and I've already met your friend Kate and Grey's sister. Neither of them does anything for me."

"I'm glad to hear it!" I chortled. "And believe me, Christian will be glad to hear you have no plans to hit on his little sister!"

"Well? Can I have an extra invite?" he pressed on, desperate for the answer.

He was hiding something. This wasn't just a date.

Has he met someone special?

"Yes," I nodded. His shoulders dropped with relief. "You can bring a plus-one. But there's cell phones allowed. You'll have to hand them over upon arrival. We don't want anyone leaking pictures or information."

"Fair enough," he agreed. He smirked again, winking at me. "Has Grey mentioned getting everyone to sign an NDA yet?"

"He has," I sighed. "I'm trying to talk him out of it."

"Good luck with that!" he laughed. "I think I know how that conversation will play out."

I couldn't help but agree with him on that one. Christian is rarely a man for turning.

Cal scanned the space around me, peeking at the small glimpse of my office he could actually see.

"You at work?" he asked. I nodded. "How's it going? Still enjoying it there?"

"I am… It's going well… for the most part, anyway."

He gave me an arched look and I exhaled a deep sigh. I proceeded to tell him all about the problems at SIP and the ghastly Maria. I opened up my mouth and let the words tumble out.

"Shit…" he huffed when I had finished my ramble. "She sounds like a petty bitch."

"She is," I nodded.

"Is she there now?"

"Not in my office," I shook my head. I turned the camera towards the closed door. "She's out there."

"Open the door," he ordered. "I'll bring her down a few rungs, the fucking bitch."

I certainly wasn't going to do that.

"Ignore her," he offered instead, once he realised I wasn't going to unleash the force of Cal Hunter on her. "Just ignore her."

"That's a lot easier said than done!"

"For you, maybe," he shot back with a frown. "Steele, why are you letting someone like her get under your skin?"

"It's not just her though," I grumbled. "It's who she represents… I feel like I'm having to push myself harder than ever, to prove myself."

"Why?"

"Because my job could be at risk," I reminded him. "And I guarantee a lot of people here agree with her, thinking I'm only here because of Christian."

"And?" Cal grunted. "You don't have to prove yourself to anyone but your boss."

"I'm just worried," I huffed, shaking my head. I slumped back in my seat. "I love this place."

"I can tell," he said. "It took you a long time to get that job, too. But you can't give in to whatever childish games that chick wants to play. Let her be petty, rise above it. You're how old now?"

"Twenty-three."

"Act like it," he nodded once. "And if you're that concerned about your job, why don't you ask –"

I raised a hand to silence him before that train of thought could materialise and enter the atmosphere.

"Steele?"

"What?"

"Does he know about any of this?"

I paused and looked up to the ceiling.

"Fuck's sake. You haven't told him, have you?"

"Not yet," I admitted in a whisper. I scrunched up my face. "I know. _I know_. But he's been going through some stuff."

"The fucker is always going through shit," he fired back. "You need to talk to him. He'll want to know if something is bothering you."

I knew he was right. I knew I had to confide in Christian sooner or later, but after seeing him so worked up and fragile at the start of the week, the last thing I wanted to do was add to his stress. For now, I'm prioritising his wellbeing.

He protected me from the dark secrets lurking inside Elena's notebook until he knew I was strong enough to handle it. While this is by no means on the same level, I want to shield him from anything that will cause unnecessary hassle.

He will jump into CEO mode the second he finds out about SIP, and he will want to solve everything with a swish of his credit card.

It will cause arguments between us. I can see it happening.

"I will talk to him," I promised, more to myself than to Cal. "I'll see how he fairs over the weekend."

"Good," Cal sighed. "He loves you. He'll want to support you through this."

"I know he will. I'm just not sure I'm ready for that battle yet," I giggled.

He knew what I was getting at and gave me a wry smile in return.

"I'll let you get back to work," Cal told me. He stretched out his free arm over his head and yawned. "I need to head to the gym anyway… In the meantime, take a leaf out of Grey's book for a change. Stop giving a damn about everyone else. Trust me, the day you stop caring about other people, that will be the day you start getting on with shit. Getting on with what's actually important."

"Okay, Yoda," I chuckled.

"Laugh all you want, you know I'm right," he grinned. "Grey's got the right attitude. You need to stick your fingers in your ears and fuck everyone who has something rude to say about you."

"I don't think Christian will appreciate that last comment," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"I don't mean literally, you fucking moron," he huffed back at me, rolling his eyes. "Chat soon, yeah?"

"Sure," I nodded. "I missed you, you know? I wish you were still here."

"Can't say the same," he quipped. "Not missing you in the slightest."

"Liar!"

He flipped me the bird and hung up.

* * *

"Cal sends you his love," I called across the kitchen counter, peering back over my shoulder to see Christian's reaction.

He pursed his lips and slowly lifting his eyes from the stack of plates he had pulled out of the cabinet.

"You spoke to him today?" he checked. I nodded. "I can only guess the distasteful and crude things he had to say about me."

"He wasn't too bad today, actually," I smirked. "He called to catch up. He said he's definitely coming to the wedding, and he wants to bring a date with him."

"The latest notch on his bedpost, no doubt," Christian muttered, spinning on the spot and powering through to the dining table.

I followed him, carrying across the pot of paella I had rustled up. Although there were only five of us for dinner, I think I made enough to feed at least double that amount.

Kate and Elliot were already sat down, deep in conversation when we came back. I set the pot down in the centre of the table and took a second to study them together. I couldn't help but grin at the blissful, easy expression on both their faces. Their relationship was getting stronger by the day, the pair seemingly inseparable lately.

Kate assured me they were still taking things slow, enjoying this time to get to know each other properly.

But she did reveal that had reaffirmed the physical nature of their relationship. Borderline TMI, but apparently it was the best she has ever had.

I scanned the rest of the room, searching for the other Grey sibling.

Mia was nowhere to be seen, her spot at the table empty, her glass of wine untouched.

"She's probably upstairs," Christian said, nudging my elbow. "She's still not happy with the guest bedroom."

"I don't know why," I shook my head. "It looks perfect to me."

"She's always been a perfectionist," he replied. "But it's those bastard drapes she keeps fussing over. She says they aren't hanging properly. At this rate, I'm either going to start locking that door to stop her going in there, or I'm going to tear down the drapes and we'll do without any."

"At least she's finally found her calling," I smiled. I reached across and rubbed my hand down the length of his arm. "It's good that she's passionate about something other than using me like a human Barbie doll."

"It'd be better if she was passionate about eating," he sighed.

"She'll come down when she's hungry," I assured him. "She'll be fine."

I started dishing out the food, passing the plates around while Christian topped up our glasses. As usual, Elliot started hacking into his meal first, shovelling it into his mouth like it was going to disappear any second.

I sat down next to Christian and took a quick mouthful of my dinner. It tasted even better than I hoped it would. I threw together ingredients we had in the refrigerator, loosely following a recipe I pulled from Google.

"You should be grateful Ana and I have given up our date night for you," Christian told his brother and Kate, shooting them a daring look. "Fridays are normally our night."

"Well, you are the ones who insisted on booking a wedding with only three months notice!" Kate blurted. "There's a lot we need to start planning."

"And I take it you've assumed the role of our wedding planner?" Christian arched his brow.

"I'm always planning shit for GEH and you've never had any complaints," Kate countered, staring him in the eye. I glanced at Christian and saw him settle back into his seat. "Besides, you will need someone to help sort the finer details. It's what I do best. I'm a born party planner."

Christian snapped his chin to me, seeking back up.

"Come on, you have to admit she did a great job with the Grey Ball," I reminded him. "And it will help us out, having someone else to take charge of some things."

"Fine," he sighed, rolling his eyes.

I stretched across and gave him a loud, wet kiss on his cheek.

"We'll need to organise the big ticket stuff first," Kate announced. I frowned at her, silently demanding an explanation. "Venue, band, photographers, caterers, narrowing down how many people you want to invite, your dress… You need to get that stuff sorted ASAP."

"You've been reading wedding magazines, haven't you?" I questioned. She rolled her lips inward. I shook my head. "Please tell me you haven't subscribed to any?"

"Just one or two," she shrugged. She waved it off with a flick of her hand. "It's not every day my best friend gets married. You gotta give me this."

I chuckled at her ridiculousness. Something was telling me she had been compiling ideas before Christian even proposed.

"Have you started thinking about any of that stuff?" she pressed on, her green eyes darting between me and Christian.

"We have literally only just set a date," Christian said. He turned his head to me again. "Have you thought about that stuff? Because I haven't."

I shook my head.

"Do you want a church wedding?" Kate asked.

"No –" we replied in unison.

I smiled at Christian.

"Do you want any kind of religious influence?" I asked.

"No," he replied. "That's not important to me. You?"

"Me neither," I shrugged. "In terms of numbers, what are you thinking? Big or small?"

"Definitely small," he answered instantly. "I only want family and some close friends. Very private."

"I'm glad you said that," I snorted. "I want it to feel relaxed. Nothing too over the top… I still want it to be special but not intense. If that makes sense?"

"I understand," he nodded. His hand slid over to mine, his fingers curling around my own. "I get it, and I want that too. I took on board what you said the other night. Our wedding shouldn't be stressful. We shouldn't go into it with this huge pressure on us. It's a celebration. It's meant to a happy day."

I grinned at his comments.

"So, we're agreed that it's going to be a low-key, relaxed, intimate wedding? No frills, no hassle, no stress?"

He nodded his confirmation.

"But I do have one request," he whispered.

"Name it?"

"Your dress needs to have some lace on it," he purred. He leaned over and brought his lips to my ear. "I fucking love you in lace."

A shiver coursed down my spine, tingling from the nape of my neck to the soles of my feet.

Elliot exhaled a heavy groan from the other side of the table, breaking us apart. I shot him a hard stare.

"I'm trying to eat over here," he huffed, shaking his head. "Anyway, how many people have you told about the date already?"

"Family, a couple of friends," I shrugged. "The most important people."

"Your dad knows?"

"He does," I nodded. "I think he's more excited than us! He can't wait."

"He's not worried about losing his little girl?" Elliot arched his brow.

"He doesn't see it as losing a daughter," I said. "Because he's gaining a son."

Christian's hand tightened around mine.

I knew how important it was to him that Ray had accepted him with open arms. He wasn't taking it for granted.

"What about your mom?" Elliot asked. "Is she flying over from… is it Georgia she's living now?"

A sharp silence whipped around the table.

I sagged in my seat at the mention of my mother.

Kate elbowed Elliot in the side, catching him in the ribs. He winced.

"Ouch!" he grumbled, scowling at her. "What was that for?"

"Shush," she ordered him.

"But I'm –"

"It's fine," I intervened, holding up my hand to Kate. "It's okay."

I looked over to Elliot, observing the confusion and pain on his face.

"I don't talk to my mom," I explained. His lips formed an O shape. "We don't have a good relationship… Well, any kind of relationship."

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I didn't know."

"We haven't spoken to each other in a while," I added. I gave him a shy smile, despite the uneasiness I felt from talking about her. "I don't think she even knows about me and Christian yet."

"You haven't told her you're in a relationship, let alone getting married?"

I shook my head.

Elliot blew out his cheeks. "Jesus… that's fucked up."

"Tell me about it," I sighed. "It's been months since I spoke to her. We had a fight."

"Don't you miss her?"

"We weren't that close before," I shook my head again. "It's complicated."

Elliot accepted my answer. He didn't press for more information.

"Ana?" Kate said my name, drawing my eyes to her. "Do you want Carla there?"

I hesitated.

"I don't know," I muttered.

Truth is, I hadn't thought about my mother at all.

Do I want her there?

Do I want to open up the lines of communication again, after all this time?

After all that has been said between us? The name calling? The spitefulness?

I had sent her a birthday card and gift a few months back, but only to appease Ray. I never received a response from her. No calls, no texts. Nothing at all.

Not that I was expecting a reply.

I didn't even get a card from her for my birthday. I didn't get one last year, either.

My mother has always been selfish. She has never thought about anyone but herself. She's the centre of her universe and everyone else is a mere player in it. No one else matters but the mighty Carla.

She hasn't bothered to reach out to me and make amends.

Would she even care that I'm getting married?

Has she given me a second thought since I told her to go fuck herself in a fit of anger?

I sank deeper into my thoughts, my eyes dropping to my plate and my largely untouched paella.

Could the wedding finally bring me and my mother together?


	7. Chapter 7

**Hello Lovelies,**

**I hope you're all safe and well. Happy Easter to all who are celebrating it this weekend!**

**I'm not currently receiving any emails from FF at the moment, so I'm not seeing reviews or PMs unless I come online to check. I have responded to as many people as possible. If I haven't replied, please know that I will read your messages and that I do appreciate your comments and continued support!**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea xx**

* * *

**Paula White** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this chapter too. Much Love x

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I hope you and your family are staying safe too! Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! I loved seeing Cal too. We'll definitely see him again at the wedding! Much Love x

* * *

It was early afternoon on Saturday and the sun was blasting warm rays down onto me, only a whisper of wind circling through the air. I swung my legs back and forth over the edge of the deck, my bare feet skimming the newly cut grass.

Ray's backyard offered an impressive view of the Sound, the water visible between the trees that lined the fence opposite. I smiled as I surveyed the landscape. I loved that he had moved closer to me. He had given up his beloved Portland to be with me, and I was eternally grateful that he had made that sacrifice.

A girl always needs her daddy, after all.

I decided to come visit Ray this afternoon, in the mood for a catch up with the other important man in my life. Christian was across the way in Bellevue, spending quality time with his family. We had agreed it was important for the both of us to have time alone with our respective families. Time to reaffirm those bonds.

"One ice-cold lemonade for my little lady –"

I turned back towards the house as Ray emerged from the doorway, carrying a tall glass in each hand. He offered one to me.

"Thanks," I grinned. I took a sip and sighed. The taste took me back to my childhood and summer days spent playing in the grass. "The yard's looking good."

He slumped down beside me and nodded, casting his eye around the garden. It was significantly bigger than the one he had left behind in Portland, and I could already tell he had grand ideas of what to do with the space.

"I'm going to dig in a vegetable patch down there," he said, pointing to the bottom left corner of the yard. "Put a barbecue on the other side, some seats... I know you must think I'm a crazy old man, wanting to get the yard sorted before I start on the house."

"You're not crazy," I dismissed his comment. "You spent most of your time outside anyway. It makes perfect sense."

He tilted his head to the side and arched his heavy brow.

"I notice you didn't say anything about me being old," he quipped.

"You don't look a day over forty," I winked. "Dad?"

"Yes, baby girl?"

"I'm so glad you're here."

He grinned back at me.

The cottage was exactly the kind of place I would imagine Ray living. Modestly sized but airy on both floors, plenty of room for guests to come over and chill out. The first floor was home to a large family room with adjoining study, an L-shaped kitchen-diner, and a half bath. Upstairs compromised of two bedrooms, complete with ensuites and ample closet space, and a master bathroom.

The house had been way out of Ray's budget, mainly thanks to the backyard, incredible views, and the two-car garage. Christian had jumped in and covered the rest of the money, though my father was completely unaware of this. He was a proud man and wouldn't readily accept help from anyone, so Christian assured him he was able to haggle a lower price.

"How is the wedding planning going?" Ray asked, bumping me with his shoulder. "Started figuring things out yet?"

"We've started," I smiled. "Kate is going to help us. She said we need to sort out a venue first. Get that secured before we do anything else."

"Any ideas of where you'd like to have it?"

"No, but Christian and I have decided we want somewhere private," I said. "We don't want a church wedding, and nothing over-the-top either. We want something quite simple."

"Simple?" Ray jerked his head back, frowning. "Christian wants a simple wedding? I'd never have had him down as the type!"

"Okay, simple probably isn't the right word," I chuckled. "What I mean is, we don't want a huge fuss. We want it to be a relaxed day. Fairly low-key in terms of guests and formalities."

"You don't want the big white wedding?"

"I hate being the centre of attention," I shuddered. Even the idea of it made me queasy. "I hate it when people sing happy birthday to me, there's no way I could handle too many eyes on me when I'm walking down the aisle. I'd throw up."

His mouth twitched into a knowing smile, a hint of a smirk trickling over his face.

"Speaking of walking down the aisle," I said, clearing my throat. I twisted my shoulders to him, facing him squarely. "Will you walk me down the aisle?"

He was still for a moment, just staring at me. I saw his eyes start to change shape, becoming rounder as they welled up.

"I would be honoured," he choked, gulping hard. He held out his hand and waited for me to put mine in his. He squeezed my fingers. "It would mean the world to me."

I edged closer and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. The smell of his favourite aftershave filled my nose, the musky familiarity of it as warm as our embrace.

"I'm so proud of you," he muttered into my ear. "You have turned into a remarkable young woman."

"It's all thanks to you, Dad."

"I can't take all the credit," he shook his head. My stomach clenched, knowing where this was headed. "I wasn't responsible for bringing you into the world."

I lifted my head and looked back at him. His face fell, appearing troubled.

"Don't you think you should tell her?" he asked. He quickly held up his hands in surrender. "I know it's not my place and I should probably keep my nose out of your business, but Carla is your mother. Nothing can change that. She'll always be your mother."

"She hasn't always acted like one," I retorted. I shook my head and dropped my eyes to my lap. "I have been thinking about her, though."

"You have?"

"Christian's brother mentioned her over dinner last night," I nodded. "Now I can't get her out of my head. I keep thinking about everything that's happened."

Our argument was explosive.

She got annoyed when I said I wouldn't be attending her wedding to Bob, the latest in her string of husbands. She was unable to understand that I couldn't drop everything to be there. I was in the middle of my finals, for crying out loud.

She said her wedding was important, that I was just being a brat.

I called her selfish and an idiot if she believed a glorified party was more important than her daughter's future.

She said she hated me. That I was too much like my father.

I told her to go fuck herself and hung up the phone.

In retaliation, she refused to come to my graduation.

"It really hurt me," I admitted. "But now I'm wondering if I should suck it up and contact her. She hates being the one to make the first move."

"She does," he nodded. "You have every right to be mad at her, though. The way she behaved was uncalled for."

"It didn't end there," I huffed. "She didn't call or text when I sent her a card for her birthday."

"She didn't?"

I shook my head.

"She didn't contact me for my birthday either," I revealed to him. His eyes widened. "I haven't heard from her at all since our fight. Literally nothing."

"I'm shocked by that," he frowned. He shook his head, disappointed. "I wonder if something is wrong with her. Maybe she's going through a hard time?"

"Maybe she doesn't care?" I muttered.

"Do you really believe that?"

I shrugged.

"Dad, I don't know at this point," I sighed. "She never acted like a real mom, did she? She wasn't affectionate. She never really cared about what I did at school or who I was friends with. She was more interested in her own friends and the next guy she could flirt with."

Ray's head bowed as I said that last comment. I could tell it still hurt him, my mother's incessant cheating.

"I just think some women aren't destined to be mothers," I added. "Christian's birth mother wasn't up to the task. Kate's mom treated her like crap… It happens."

"It does," he nodded, slowly. "And I don't know if it's possible for you and Carla to kiss and make up, but I think you should tell her you're getting married. This is a huge milestone in your life. I think she would want to know."

I licked my lips and stared Ray in the eye.

"What if it goes wrong again?" I asked. "What if she doesn't care and she slams the door in my face? What do I do then?"

"At least you'll rest easy knowing you tried," he replied. "You won't be plagued by those what ifs. You'll be able to close that chapter once and for all."

I should have known all those months of telling Christian he needs to make peace with his past would come back to bite me on the ass…

Now it was my turn.

* * *

I was propped against the headboard, my knees to my chest. It was still relatively early in the night, but I had crawled into bed soon after coming home from Ray's.

My iPhone was in my hands, my eyes reading back over the message I had spent more than thirty minutes writing and rewriting.

**Hi Mom. How are you? Long time no speak –**

_Ugh. _

I couldn't bring myself to finish the message.

What do I even say?

Do I play it cool and be friendly, or do I keep it short and to the point?

Do I bother sending it at all?

In the corner of my eye I saw Christian emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. I caught a whiff of our bodywash as he passed the bed.

"You should have joined me in there," he breathed heavily, using another towel to ruffle his wet hair.

"I showered when I got home," I replied, shaking my head. "Sorry."

"How was your day?"

"Good," I hummed, my focus still on my phone. "It was good. Yours?"

"It was great, actually," he said. "I had some beers with Carrick and Elliot."

"Sounds fun…"

"Did you have dinner with Ray?"

I nodded once.

"What did you have?"

"Steak," I muttered. "You?"

"Grace made dinner for all of us," he answered. He crept up onto the bed and kneeled in front of me. "You would have liked it."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, we had Labrador puppies stewed in tomato sauce. A nice side salad of elephant toenails and hair from a barber's floor."

"Yummy…"

Christian's laugh pierced through the room, the sound of it jerking my head up. I frowned at him, confused.

"What?" I shook my head. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're not listening to me," he continued to chuckle. "What's got you so distracted tonight?"

He leaned forward and peered over the top of my phone. I turned the screen to him, offering it over.

He read the unfinished message.

"Right," he nodded, his expression hardening. "You're going to contact her?"

"I don't know," I huffed, throwing myself into the headboard. "I don't know what to do."

"Did you talk to Ray about this?"

"He thinks I should offer her an olive branch."

"Okay."

"What do you think I should do?" I blurted

"Ana," he sighed. He narrowed his eyes. "You know I can't tell you –"

"I'm asking what you would do in my shoes," I interrupted. "If you could talk to your birth mother after everything, would you want to?"

He rocked back on his heels, his shoulders sagging.

"Sorry," I shook my head. I held up my hand. "I'm sorry… Ignore me. I know it's not the same –"

"I think I would," he answered in a low voice.

My brows furrowed.

I wasn't expecting him to actually answer.

"There's a lot I would ask her," he nodded again. "There are things I want to know. Things I want to tell her."

He snorted under his breath.

"There would be a lot of cursing and name-calling," he added. "But I would take the opportunity if I had it."

"Really? You would?"

"Yes."

I hesitated.

"Do you think it would help you come to terms with stuff?"

"Probably," he shrugged. "Not right away, but later down the line. It would fuck me up a bit more first, I mean I'd literally have to talk to the dead!"

I smiled at his joke.

His hand smoothed up the length of my right shin.

"What is your gut telling you to do?" he asked.

"That I should reach out first and be the bigger person," I said.

"And your heart?"

I pursed my lips.

My heart was saying something else entirely.

"Baby, what are you worried about?"

"Having another setback," I admitted in a whisper. "I'm in such a good place right now."

"You are. You're stronger than you have ever been," he nodded. He rapped his fingertips on my knee. "Which also means you're in a much better place to handle this kind of stuff. Don't you think?"

I shrugged.

"I don't know if I want to reopen a wound that's already healed."

"But it hasn't healed," he shook his head, dismissing the suggestion. "You just closed the door on her. You slammed it shut and haven't opened it again. That's not healing."

I frowned at him.

"Did you talk to Flynn again today?"

"I may have," he smirked. "He says hi, by the way… Ana, you know I fucking hate this word, but you need closure. Maybe now is the right time to find it."

I inhaled a deep, shaky breath.

"Only you know what's right for you," he said. He pushed forward and brought his mouth to mine, kissing me lightly. "But don't think you'll have to face this alone. I will support you no matter what."

"Christian…"

"I'll always be here," he breathed. "You don't need to be scared about opening that door, because I'll help you walk through it. I'll catch you if you fall, baby. I support you, you support me. We hold each other up. That's how this works, right?"

"Right," I nodded, kissing him back.

* * *

The alarm clock was taunting me. Blinking the numbers 02:46 back at me, time rolling forward slowly, mockingly.

I flopped onto my back with a huff and stared up at the ceiling.

My mind was racing, torturing me into making a decision.

Christian was blissfully unaware of my turmoil, sleeping soundly beside me. He was curled up close, his head resting next to mine, his arm draped over my waist.

"Fine," I grunted into the darkness.

I reached over to my bedside counter and slipped my phone off the top. I quickly adjusted the screen's brightness, setting it as low as possible.

The text was right there waiting for me.

I deleted all of it and rewrote it on a whim, hitting send before I could chicken out again.

It was now or never.

**Hi Mom. Can we talk? I think it's time we did the grown-up thing and discussed what happened. It's been long enough now. Let me know if you want to chat. I'll be waiting. Ana.**

Good or bad, I need to know.

I need closure.

Christian shuffled closer, his hips pressing into my side. I peeked across to him, checking his eyes were still tightly closed.

He exhaled a deep sigh.

"I can face anything as long as I have you with me, can't I?" I muttered to him.

He lay still, fast asleep.

"You won't like her," I added. "You'll think she's stuck-up… I don't know if she'll like you, either."

He grunted, nuzzling his head into my shoulder.

"She'll probably think you're too good for me," I sighed. "But let's face it, we've already tackled the devil incarnate, haven't we? My mother will be a piece of cake compared that evil bitch."

I pecked a kiss into his hair and nestled down into my pillow.

I closed my eyes and allowed sleep to finally wash over me, enveloping me into a dreamless slumber.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello Lovelies,**

**I hope you're all well and keeping safe!**

**As always I hope you enjoy this chapter. More coming soon!**

**Much Love and Stay Safe,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**DoloresDeeHowe** \- Thank you! I'm glad you liked the last chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

**SuzB** \- Thank you! Ana has made a lot of progress, but I think getting the chance to talk to Carla will only serve to help her in her recovery. I have a feeling it will work out in her favour! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

**Jeangb** \- Thank you! I think you might be right about Carla, she strikes me as a woman always on the lookout for something better than what she already has. It'll be interesting to see how things develop! Much Love x

**B **\- Thank you! I'm really glad you enjoying this story. That's great to hear! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

**Paula White** \- Thank you! I hope you like this update! Much Love x

* * *

Two weeks had passed since I sent that late-night text message to my mother and I still hadn't received a reply.

I can't even admit to myself whether I was expecting a response or not. I think a part of me sent the message to clear my conscience, to show that I am the bigger person in all of this. I know deep in my heart I did nothing wrong, but still I wanted to hold my hands up and be able to say I tried.

It would have been nice to receive some kind of acknowledgement though.

Ray told me I should give her more time to respond. He suggested that maybe something was wrong on her side, that perhaps she is extremely busy. Doing what exactly, I wasn't sure. My mother isn't known for her work ethic.

Kate urged me to block her number and give up the ghost, drawing on her own experiences with her mom. She had cut her entire family out of her life and was coping just fine with me, Christian and Elliot fighting her corner. She seemed much happier this way.

Christian, however, was more objective with his advice. In fact, he didn't bother to give me any. He sat back and listened to me talk about my mother, allowing me to get whatever I had to say off my chest.

He called me brave for making the first move.

He understood the pain of being rejected by your own mother.

While I wasn't on tenterhooks waiting for a reply, I was more than a little unnerved by her continued radio silence. I had questions I wanted to ask, things I wanted to tell her. I didn't want to start World War Three, but I did want to confront her about her actions and behaviour. I wanted her to know how it made me feel.

Is it really possible she is still mad about the whole thing? That she can't bury the hatchet long enough to send a quick text?

I toyed with my phone, spinning it around between my finger and thumb. There was no chance of me getting any work done today. At least I was at home, though, instead of in the office and under prying eyes.

I had opted to spend the rest of the day working from home, having taken an hour out this morning for my routine dental check. Christian had followed suit, first accompanying me to my appointment and then working from his home office thereafter. I was eager to accept his offer to come with me to the appointment. I bloody hate going to the dentist. There's something so unnatural and invasive about having someone poke around inside your mouth. I would rather have a pap smear any day! And that's saying something.

I had turned the library into my own workspace, moving a couple of things around to include the mammoth-sized copy machine I asked to be installed.

My desk faced the door, a request from Christian.

His office was directly across from mine, the doors matching up perfectly on either side of the hallway. With both doors open, we could see each other working from our respective desks. Weirdly, it wasn't a distraction having him in such close proximity, not like it has been whenever he has come to SIP to work from my office there. At home, we know our boundaries. That is his space, this is mine. We work, but we don't ignore each other. Occasionally, I'll look up and catch his eye, earning myself a soft smile and wave.

I peeked up at him now and watched as he wrote something down on the notepad by his computer.

I recalled what he said about his own mother. After everything, he would still want to talk to her. It amazed me to hear him say that. The courage it would take to face the person who brought so much pain into your life. Now that's bravery.

Spinning my phone back to the right way up, I reopened my messages and started typing a new text.

**I'm not sure if you got my last text or if you're simply ignoring me, but I thought I would give it one last shot. If you want to talk, you know how to reach me. If not, that's fine too, but at least have the decency to tell me. Ana.**

I pressed send and dropped the phone onto my desk. I flopped back in my seat and stared out of the door. Christian was now on a call, muttering something fast, barely coming up for air.

_Buzz. Buzz. _

My eyes lowered to my phone, my stomach lurching as it rattled against the white-washed wood. Tentatively, I reached out and turned it over, checking the notification.

1 New Text.

She had replied.

_Hi. I would like to talk. You're right. It is time we discussed everything._

I had only just finished reading her reply when another message appeared underneath it.

_I'm glad you contacted me._

No explanations. No mention of her delay. Nothing to suggest her silence was out of the ordinary or even worth acknowledging.

**I thought you were ignoring me.**

_I was thinking it over._

Right.

_She's still pissed off then_, I thought to myself.

**And now you have decided you do want to talk?**

_Yes, I have._

**When? Soon?**

_Soon. I think it would be good for us to clear the air sooner rather than later. It's already been too long._

**I can call you now, if you're free?**

The fast pace of her replies suddenly came to a halt, almost ten minutes passing before her next message arrived.

_I can't talk right now. _

**Okay. How about later? I can call you this evening if that's better?**

_I think it would be best for us to talk in person. Meet face to face. What do you think?_

My stomach flipped again.

Admittedly, my mother had never been a fan of talking on the phone, always preferring to chat in person, but I wasn't sure if I was quite ready to see her in the flesh again.

**Would you come here to see me? I'm in Seattle now. I moved here after college.**

_I know. Ray told us. No, I was thinking you could come visit me. It would be nice to have you here. _

My lips parted, my jaw hanging open.

_I know Bob would like to see you again._

I glanced up from my phone at the sound of footsteps.

Christian crossed the threshold into my office and sauntered over to my desk.

"My mom finally replied," I announced. His brows shot high up his forehead. "I know… I'm shocked too."

"What has she said?"

"She wants to talk," I nodded.

"That's good," he hummed, offering a smile. He perched himself on the edge of my desk. "At least she's being receptive."

"One downside," I droned, narrowing my eyes. "She thinks we should talk in person."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

"In Georgia," I added. His lips immediately pressed into a hard line. "She wants me to fly out there to see her."

He didn't say anything. He stared at me, deep in thought.

"I haven't given her an answer yet," I explained. "I'm going to think it over. I _need_ to think it over."

"Okay."

"I mean, I haven't spoken to her in what... over a year? I think we should talk more first, at least via text or Facetime or something."

"I agree," he nodded. He reached out with his hand and gave my shoulder a tight squeeze. "You should break the ice a bit more first. I can understand why she wants you over there, though."

"You do?" I frowned

"She'll be on home turf," he said. "It'll give her the upper hand."

"I guess…" I peeked down at my phone. "If I do decide to fly out there, what –"

"I'll arrange everything for us. Flights, accommodation…" he interrupted, sensing exactly what I was going to ask. "You won't have to face her alone. I'll be right there with you, if that's what you want."

"It is," I nodded, eagerly. "At least until I know a war isn't going to break out between us."

His hand slipped down the length of my arm and scooped up my hand. He brought it to his mouth and pressed a tender kiss to the back of my fingers.

"Are you happier now she's responded?" he checked.

"I'm not sure happy is the right word for it," I shrugged. "Kinda relieved. I told her that even if she didn't want to talk, she should at least tell me. It's just plain rude to ignore people."

"Especially your own child," he added on a huff. He shook his head and sighed. "Anyway… I'm about to grab some lunch. Are you going to join me?"

"Yeah, let me save this memo first –"

Before I could move, Christian leaned forward and stole a glance at my screen.

As he read the email Mark had sent over moments earlier, he slipped off the desk and moved to stand at my side.

His expression hardened as he scoured the message.

It was an update about the sale of SIP. The consolidators had contacted Mark and several others to reiterate the concern that a buyer had yet to be found. So far there had been no interest in the company, despite efforts to bring investors on board. I knew Mark had personally reached out to several people in the hopes of rousing interest, but to no success. While there was still time left on the clock, the suits want to start listing assets that can be sold if we pass the deadline.

"SIP is up for sale?" Christian asked, shooting me a quick stare. His eyes were pinpoint and dark.

"You didn't know?" I whispered.

I had wondered if he'd already heard the news on the grapevine and hadn't disclosed it to me, unsure if I knew or not.

He shook his head.

"Publishing isn't on my radar," he muttered. "How long have you known?"

"A couple of weeks," I grimaced. I spun my chair to the side so I could face him properly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I couldn't seem to find the right time to sit down and discuss it with you."

In an instant, his expression softened.

"Why are you apologising?" he sighed. He pulled my hand back up to his mouth. "Don't be sorry."

"You're not mad at me?"

"No," he snorted. "No, baby… So, what's happened? Why is Savidge selling?"

"Mr Savidge passed away," I said. "His wife is trying to get rid of the business. She clearly sees it as a noose around her neck."

"And what's all this talk about selling assets?"

"If the company isn't sold by the end of November, they will start selling off whatever they can to reduce costs," I explained. "They have already brought consolidators in. There's talk about laying people off…"

His brows furrowed, knitting together in the middle of his forehead.

"Is that bothering you?" he asked. "Are you worried about the possibility of losing your job?"

I slowly nodded.

"Oh Ana…" he sighed deeply. He dropped to a crouch in front of me, his hands curling around my knees as he balanced himself. He stared up at me. "You should have told me. I hate the idea of you stressing yourself out."

"It's okay," I shrugged, managing a weak smile. "I'm trying to stay positive."

"You love your job," he muttered.

"I do," I nodded. I inhaled a sharp breath. "But there's still a chance someone will take a serious interest in SIP and want to snap it up."

I wondered if this would be the moment he would slip into business mode, donning his armour and waving a blank check.

I studied him, waiting to see if I could spot dollar signs flickering in his eyes.

"I'm sure there must be another nerd out there like Savidge who will want to invest in the place," he quipped. "He can't be the only one."

"I hope he's not!"

"If the deadline is late November, there's still plenty of time. There's no need to worry yet."

"I suppose not."

"In the meantime, however, you should talk to me if you're feeling worried or stressed," he urged, pressing his fingertips deep into the flesh above my knees. "Don't bottle anything up. Please?"

"I won't," I shook my head. "I just didn't want to dump this on you. I found out on your birth mother's birthday."

His lips parted into an O-shape, a look of realisation spreading between his eyes.

He nodded.

"I appreciate you putting me first," he said. "But don't feel like you can't talk to me. I'm a big boy. I can handle your problems as well as my own."

My shoulders lowered with relief. The ease of the conversation was unexpected and very much welcome. I had been bracing myself for an argument.

"Is there anything else I should know?"

"Well…" I hummed, tilting my head to the side. "I'm having some problems with a couple of people at work."

"What kind of problems?"

"Since the announcement about Mr Savidge, there's been some whispering behind my back," I began. "Dirty looks, certain people not wanting to talk to me. That kind of thing."

"Why?" he frowned. "Why would they do that?"

"They think my job is safe because of you," I admitted on a sigh. "Because of who you are. Apparently, no one would dream of firing Christian Grey's significant other. As long as I'm in your pocket, I'm untouchable."

He paused for a moment, cocking his head to the side.

"Is that why you were freaking out about me turning up at your office?" he guessed.

I nodded again.

"Jesus… Ana, I'm sorry. The last thing I would want is to cause problems for you –"

"I know," I smiled. I cupped his cheek with my right hand. "It's petty, childish behaviour. I'm trying not to let it get to me. It still sucks though, having people talk about you behind your back."

"It does if you care what other people think of you," he added, giving me a knowing look.

"I'm not you," I shook my head. "I inherently want to be liked because I like to think I'm a good person."

"You are a good person," he grinned. "You're my favourite person."

He turned his face into my hand and kissed my palm.

"Have you spoken to Mark about what's happening?" he asked.

"No, I haven't. Not yet."

"Why not?"

"I kinda see that as a last resort," I shrugged. "I want to see if I can handle it on my own first. I think I might approach the ring leader myself. Talk to her about what's going on."

"Try to nip it in the bud?"

"Exactly," I nodded. "We're all adults. I don't need them to be my best friends – or even a friend, for that matter – but I do want to be civil and get along with my co-workers. It'll make life easier in the long run."

"Still consider talking to Mark about it," Christian suggested. "He'll want to know if something is going on. I would want to know if any of my employees were having issues with each other."

"Really?" I questioned. "You'd actually care about that sort of thing?"

He nodded. "If they're too busy bitching at each other, they're not getting their work done. When they're at work, they are there to work. If I have to step in and say something, I will."

"Even if they are just juniors or interns?"

"There's no _just_ involved," he shook his head. "No one is _just_ anything if they work for me. It doesn't matter if they are an intern, an MD or a cleaner… they all matter and are important."

I smiled at his response.

"That's why I love you," I mumbled. I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the lips. "Thank you."

"For what?" he smirked, his lips curling under my own.

"For being you," I laughed. "And for listening to me. I will talk to Mark if I don't get anywhere with my co-worker."

"Good," he nodded. "Now, then, what do you want for lunch? I'm in the mood for a BLT sub."

"That sounds great," I smiled.

He kissed me once more and then pushed to his feet, turning on his heels and exiting my office. He rounded the corner, heading for the kitchen.

I slumped back in my seat and blew out a long breath.

_Well, that was unexpected!_

I was ready for a full Christian backlash over not talking to him sooner, to be swiftly followed by the flash of his credit card and promises to solve all of SIP's problems in one swipe.

I knew that Christian could easily save SIP and my job in the process, but I had fought hard to separate my personal and professional lives. I needed a distinction between them. I don't want to be known as only his other half, a trophy wife who swans around in one of his businesses acting like she owns the place.

I want to earn my stripes, like he has. I want to pay my own way in this world.

At the same time, though, I wasn't entirely dismissive at the idea of his involvement. If I had to, I would consider that as an option.

I have battled long and hard for my job and I'll be damned if I am going to lose it, regardless of what people have to say. I've fought before, and I'm prepared to fight again.

* * *

The following morning I was back at work and sat at my desk, toying with my fingers, preparing myself to talk to Maria. I had rehearsed exactly what I planned on saying to her, made mental notes of everything I wanted to cover.

I had just called her in, but she was taking her sweet time in actually joining me. I watched her through my glass windows, seeing her sashay around her desk, laughing with her nearest colleagues. Not a care in the world.

"Yes?" she huffed as she finally reached my doorway. She tossed her short bob back from her face and pushed her too-large glasses up her nose. "What do you want to see me about?"

"Come in," I prompted her.

She quickly shot a glance towards Jaz, who was sat in her usual corner.

"Jaz," I said. She looked across to me. "Would you mind giving us a minute alone?"

"Sure," Jaz shrugged.

She rose from her chair and skirted around Maria, but not before sizing her up on her way past. I was sure I heard the word 'trash' escape Jaz's lips.

Maria scowled and abruptly closed the door behind Jaz, eventually leaving the doorway and taking a seat opposite me. She crossed her legs and folded her arms, immediately on the defensive.

"Well?" she grunted. "I'm busy, so can we cut to the chase? Why am I here?"

"I wanted to discuss a few things with you," I began, trying hard to keep my voice calm and steady. "Mainly about the way you have been behaving towards me lately."

"What?"

"I've noticed a distinct shift in the way you have spoken to me," I continued. "You have been rude and snappy, and I have seen you talking about me to other people in the building."

She shifted her gaze away from mine, tutting quietly to herself.

"You really think I've got time to sit around talking about you?" she snorted. "Believe me, I wouldn't waste my time."

"That's a lie and we both know it," I shot back. The temperature in the room was starting to rise, I could feel it at the back of my neck. "I have heard you and I have seen you. You have been spreading rumours about me."

"Like what?" she shrugged. "What have I supposedly said?"

"Quit playing the dumb blonde," I shook my head. "It doesn't suit you."

"Stop acting like my boss," she returned with a harsh note to her voice. "In case you hadn't realised, we're on the same level. You can't pull rank with me."

I clenched my jaw.

"I'm asking you to stop talking about me," I sighed. "To stop spreading untruths."

"You didn't answer me," she said. "What have I supposedly said about you that's untrue?"

"That my fiancé got me this job," I reeled off. "That I've somehow bribed my way into this position. That I'm sucking up to Mark as a way of furthering myself."

She cocked her head to the side.

"What's untrue about any of that?" she asked, pursing her lips. "Everyone knows you're vastly unqualified for this job. The only way you could have gotten it is with a helping hand."

"Excuse me?" I jerked my head back. "That's not true. You can ask Mark."

"Why would I ask him?" she frowned. "He's so far up your ass, I don't know where you end and he begins."

She leaned forward and placed her forearms on the desk.

"You see, Ana, I'm just making sure everyone here sees you for who you are," she whispered. I could barely hear her over the blood pumping in my ears. "You know what we call you? _Cuckoo_… You're only here because you fluttered your eyelashes and got your perfect boyfriend to make a few calls. The only qualification that got you this job is your ability to drop to your knees and suck –"

I jumped to my feet and slammed my hands down on my desk. She startled, reeling back into her seat.

"How dare you!" I growled. "What gives you the right to come in here and talk to me like that?"

"You can't pull the wool over my eyes," she continued, her mouth curling into a sly smirk. "I won't rest until everyone sees you for the snake you are."

"You're pathetic, you know that?" I shook my head. A laugh escaped me. "You're really going to spend your time acting like a little bitch? I asked you in here to try and resolve whatever animosity there is between us, because all I want is to get on with my job. I don't want to get caught up in office wars."

"Oh there's no war, sweetie," she laughed. She rose from her chair and straightened down her dress. "And even if there was one, I'd win. You're no match for me, honey."

"Yeah, a woman once said that to me," I snorted. "She was dead less than an hour later."

"Is that a threat?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"If it was, you wouldn't need to ask," I retorted. "Now get the hell out of my office."

She scanned me up and down and sucked her teeth. I glared at her until she made her way out onto the floor again.

I walked to my door and took a single step outside. Eyes were quickly turning towards me, beady stares keen to find out what had happened.

"Don't think for a second I'm clueless as to what's going on here," I called out to everyone within earshot. "Quite frankly, I think it's disgraceful that a bunch of adults have resorted to sneaky whispering and snide comments. Over the past week, I have seen a lot of you turn your back on me and ignore me, all because Maria here has got under your skin."

"Don't flatter yourself," Maria chided.

"You can shut the fuck up," I shouted. In the corner of my eye I saw Mark step out of his office, but there was no stopping me. "I've heard more than enough from you today… As for the rest of you, I have been nothing but nice to you. I have gone out of my way to impress you, show you that I'm worthy of my role here."

Some of my listeners averted their eyes, their faces turning red.

"Why did I bother?" I shook my head. I tutted under my breath. "The gloves are off now. I'm done being nice to people who blatantly don't deserve it. I'm nobody's doormat. If you've got something to say, come say it to my face. Better yet, grow up and act your fucking ages."

I spun around and slammed my door shut. The sound cut through the air, making my ears thud.

I stomped around my desk and dropped back into my chair, my head plummeting into my hands. I was shaking, adrenaline surging through me like a bolt of lightning.

_What the hell had just come over me?_

A ping pierced the air and I gingerly lifted my head to see a new email flashing at me.

My gut twisted as I saw Mark's name in bold letters.

* * *

**From: Mark Griffin**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 3 October 2012 10:13**

**Subject: WTF?**

What was that all about?

* * *

I fired back a quick response, outlining the bare bones of the Maria problem.

* * *

**From: Mark Griffin**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 3 October 2012 10:17**

**Subject: WTF?**

I had no idea. I've heard nothing about it.

Are you OK?

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Mark Griffin**

**Date: 3 October 2012 10:19**

**Subject: WTF?**

Yeah, I'm fine. Still bristling with anger, but otherwise okay.

Sorry for causing a scene.

And sorry for cursing.

It won't happen again. I promise.

* * *

**From: Mark Griffin**

**To: Anastasia Steele**

**Date: 3 October 2012 10:25**

**Subject: WTF?**

First of all, I'm glad you're OK. If you need five minutes or an extended lunch to calm down, feel free to take it.

Second, do not fucking apologise. You seriously need to stop saying sorry all the time!

That is what I've wanted to see from you since day one. A little bit of feistiness. A serious backbone. The ability to face people head on and speak your mind. They are all the qualities of management. If you want to progress in this game, you have to know how to speak up.

It's good to see you standing on your own two feet and tackling this head on.

You should be proud of yourself. I'm proud of you.

PS – for the record, in case HR come sniffing, I am obliged to tell you that you should refrain from telling co-workers to 'shut the fuck up'. It isn't professional and blah blah blah… ;)

* * *

I smile at his added message.

* * *

**From: Anastasia Steele**

**To: Mark Griffin**

**Date: 3 October 2012 10:26**

**Subject: WTF?**

Yes, boss.

* * *

As I rolled my chair away from my desk and turned to face the window displaying a perfect view of Grey House, I realised something.

I do know where that outburst came from.

That was pure Christian Grey.

His confidence must be rubbing off on me.

_And about fucking time too…_


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello Lovelies,**

**I hope you're all keeping well. I'm hoping my email issues are now resolved, so I should be back replying to reviews as normal. (Fingers crossed!) As always, thank you for taking the time to read and leave comments. It means a lot.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's starting to feel a little hot in here, don't you think? ;)**

**Much Love and Stay Safe,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**Julygirljoe83** – Thank you! Haha, a few people have assumed that. I don't know. I think Christian is just a good influence on her! Much Love x

**Lavendarjade** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

**Tammi** – Thank you! I bet Ana feels like a weight has been lifted! It's about time she stood up for herself. I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! I had a lovely birthday, I hope you did too! It was definitely a strange one this year, but feeling very lucky to be safe and well. Much Love x

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I really hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

**Jeangb** – Thank you! Ana will definitely be keeping her chin up. She's gained a new sense of confidence that will help carry her through this difficult time at SIP. Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

* * *

Christian's fingers flexed and curled around mine as we began climbing the stairs, him always a step higher up than me.

"Let's see if we can harness some of this new found feistiness you've got, huh?" he muttered, casting a glance down at me from the corner of his eye. His mouth turned up into a wry smile. "You know, I still can't believe you did that… or that I fucking missed it!"

He had instantly found the funny side of my outburst when I had told him about it. He was taken back at first, but then laughed until his stomach and cheeks ached. He begged me to tell him the story over and over, unable to get enough of it.

I admit, I found it amusing too. Well, once the initial shock of it had worn off. I still couldn't believe how out of character it was for me. I was a woman possessed with the spirit of her fiancé!

Since Wednesday's eruption I had seen a definite shift in the general mood at SIP. I was still getting scowls and there was still whispering behind my back, but it was my own reaction to it that had changed the most.

I didn't care.

I had lost the urge to defend myself against the rumours.

Now I had decided I wouldn't bother being friendly to the people who didn't deserve it, I simply got on with my day and ignored them.

Something had snapped inside me. Too many people have taken advantage of my kindness and silence. But not anymore. Fuck them and their bullshit.

"Neither can I," I giggled, shaking my head. "It came out of nowhere."

"It had clearly been building for a while."

"It's your influence," I shot back, tugging on his hand.

"I'll happily take that," he smirked, turning his chin to me. He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of my fingers. "You shouldn't put up with anyone's crap. I'm glad you have found your voice at last."

"Me too," I smiled.

We reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner, my core tightening as my eyes honed in on the playroom door.

It was Friday night and my turn to decide what we would do for our scheduled date.

There was no hesitation in making my choice. I had been itching to get back in the playroom.

As with the rest of the apartment, it was out with the old and in with the new. Including the playroom. It was time to get rid of the blood red and tortuous vibes, opting for something more erotic and sensual for us now. The playroom was no longer about inflicting pain or releasing anger. It was purely about pleasure and fun. A place for laughter and orgasmic moans, not cries of discomfort and unease.

Christian had hired an old acquaintance from his club days to help with the renovation. There was no way in hell Mia was ever going to find out what goes on in this room. Freddie was happy to jump at the challenge of redesigning the room for us, to bring to life our unusual ideas. I found him to be an easy-going, completely laid-back guy with a wicked sense of humour.

I was convinced I would feel awkward around Freddie, but my worries were shed within moments of meeting him. I wasn't embarrassed or uncomfortable talking to him, didn't feel conflicted about him knowing what we would be doing in that room. He got it. He didn't ask personal questions or pry. He was strictly professional about the whole thing. I liked him.

Freddie finished yesterday afternoon, having added a few last-minute touches over the past week. Neither me nor Christian had been inside during the building works, wanting to check it out only when we had the time to experience the room in its full capacity there and then.

I couldn't wait to see it for myself. See it in the flesh.

Christian removed the small brass key from his pocket and unlocked the door. The click sent a shiver down my spine.

He pushed the door open and stood back, allowing me to head inside first while he reached forward and flicked on the lights.

"Oh my god…"

My heart leapt into my throat.

My gaze darted all around the room, bouncing off different features, unable to take it all in.

"It's beautiful," I gasped.

"Jesus," Christian exhaled. He came to a standstill at my side, both of us in the centre of the room and looking around in awe. "It looks exactly how I imagined it."

"It's exactly what we asked for," I corrected.

He nodded.

Our primary focus for the renovation was to demolish everything and start from scratch. New everything. From the floor to the ceiling, there wasn't a single thing in the room from the time designated 'Pre-Ana'. All of it had been ripped out and replaced. Only the door remained.

I grinned as I scanned the room. There was no red in sight. That was a must.

The room was now peppered with various shades of Christian's favourite colour. We were enveloped into a cocoon of soft light, ice-blue waves dancing across the walls from a rotating fixture hanging from the ceiling. It gave the impression of water rippling along the hues of cornflower, sea-green and sapphire expertly painted on every wall. The colours blended into each other, no harsh lines or finite shifts. The colours were darker near the roof and floor, making the walls appear rounded. It was like stepping into an underwater cave, a mermaid's pleasure dome of sorts. Crystals protruded from the walls, as if bulging from a rock face, the amber, pink and silver diamond-like sculptures mostly framing the king-sized bed in front of us.

I crossed over to the bed and ran my hand across the pearlescent satin sheets. The bed was four-poster, like its predecessor, but was made from white iron. A thin cream veil was draped across the canopy. I smirked as I spotted purple restraints already attached to each of the posts.

To my right was a leather loveseat flanked with tall glass cabinets, each full of toys proudly on display. The dark grey couch sat in front of a large wooden chair, an intricate design carved into the oak. It had navy cushion pads. It was a throne fit for a queen.

_His queen._

I studied the chair and saw yet more purple restraints embedded into the wood, for wrists and ankles.

There were numerous locations around the room perfect for being tied to. A whole load of different positions for us to try out…

"I don't remember this in Freddie's plans," I murmured, pointing to the chair. Christian grinned. "Something you added?"

"Among other things," he nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He closed the gap between us. "I added a couple surprises for you… Do you like it?"

"The chair?"

"No, the room," he said, gesturing around us. "Does it meet your expectations?"

"It exceeds them!" I chuckled. I leaned into him, my hands snaking around his back. "Do you like it?"

He nodded again.

"You don't think it's too… I don't know, _girly_?"

"No," he replied instantly. His hands crept to my face, his fingers starting to caress my jaw. "I didn't want a traditional playroom. Been there, done it. It's not me anymore."

I couldn't hide my grin. It exploded across my face like a firework.

"No pain," he purred, reiterating our promise. "Nothing but pleasure."

His lips hovered over mine, but they didn't make contact. I shuddered at the warmth of his breath.

"You ready to play, baby?" he asked in a low, deep voice.

"You bet your ass I am," I snorted.

"Good," he grunted. He tightened his hold of my face, forcing my head still. "Keep that edge. I want you to be fiery tonight. I want to see my defiant, stubborn Ana."

"You don't want me to be submissive?"

"Oh, you'll submit to me," he pouted. "There's no question about that. But I want to see the gutsy side of you. It turns me on."

"Everything turns you on…"

He gave me a hard kiss and then backed away, reclaiming the distance he had just broken.

His eyes roamed the length of my body and slowly I understood what he was expecting me to do.

My fingers toyed with the buttons of my blouse, trembling as I peeled it from my torso. Removing my slacks and panties was difficult, my knees starting to buckle under the heat of his stare.

I stood in front of him, completely naked, my arms loose at my sides.

He lifted his eyes to my hair. I reached up and undid my topknot, my dark tangles falling around my shoulders.

I saw a flicker of a smirk on his lips before he turned on the spot and left the room.

_Keep it together, Steele. _

He was back before I had chance to miss him, now wearing only a pair of low-hanging silk pyjama pants. The material was already straining at his crotch.

"Come sit in the chair," he ordered, holding out his hand for me to take. "We'll save the bed for last."

He guided me over to the throne and gently pushed me down into it. I sat, naturally parting my legs, knowing how this will unfold. His eyes lingered between my thighs as he hooked the restraints around my wrists.

"I'm going to take my time with you," he announced. I pulled at the restraints, testing them. "Okay?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"What's our safeword?"

"Flamingo," I giggled.

He rolled his eyes but matched my laughter with a light rumble of his own.

Leaning forward, he pressed his mouth to mine. His tongue ran between the seam of my lips, pushing them open.

"We've got a ton of new toys to play with," he said. "I picked them out especially."

I had let him takeover in the toy department. We had started checking various websites together, but I didn't recognise or understand what half of them were for. It was safer to leave it up to him. He knows my body, he knows what I will like, what I will hate.

And I trust him. Implicitly.

He spun around and strode over to the cabinets. He kept his back to me as he selected his prize, coming back to me with a small pebble like device in his palm.

I frowned as he brought it over and held it out for me to inspect. It was a soft mint colour, shaped like an egg with a slight curve in the middle. There was a small cable protruding from the base.

"Where does that go?" I asked, cautiously.

"Inside you," he hummed. "It's a vibrator."

"Oh –"

"There's a remote control," he nodded. "I can operate it without being near you. It's got a pretty good range, too."

"You've tested it?"

"I wanted to make sure it was suitable," he said, shrugging. "And it is. You'll love it."

Turning back to the cabinet, he snatched up the controller and a bottle of lubricant and then returned to me. I licked my lips as he began rubbing lube all over the pebble, preparing it for use.

"Relax…" he breathed, kneeling between my feet.

He gently traced the seam of my sex, limbering me up with his fingers, massaging my throbbing nub. I writhed, trying to tilt my hips forward, wanting to rub myself into his palm for more friction.

"That's it," he hissed. He raised the pebble and eased it inside me, slowly, positioning it in just the right spot. I jerked as he pressed it against those tightly bound nerves he never fails to find. "Is that okay?"

"Yes," I gulped, nodding vigorously.

His fingers left the apex of my thighs and started dancing down the length of my legs, the lightness of his touch sending more shivers all over my body.

"I'll start you off easy," he promised.

He flicked a switch on the controller and I jolted in the chair, a spasm tearing through me.

"Oh my god!" I shrieked, bucking wildly. It pulsed in beats of three, _buzz buzz buzz_, thumping deep inside me. "Fuck… is that only the first setting?"

"You bet," he chuckled. I stared at him as he skulked away, heading for the couch. He perched on the edge, watching me writhe. "Is it intense?"

"Very!"

"Too much for you to handle?"

I couldn't reply.

I slammed my eyes shut and tried to adjust to the sensations. It spread through my lower stomach and down my thighs, palpitating through every nerve from my waist down.

I heard a click and the rhythm changed, the beats getting faster, closer together, no breaks for me to try to catch my breath.

"Shit…" I gasped. I threw my head back and moaned. "Christian…"

"It gets a lot better than this, trust me," he said. "This little beauty has ten settings. It goes up in intensity each time. This is only the beginning."

"Fucking hell!" I rocked back in the chair, squeezing my eyes shut. I tugged on the restraints, pulling hard against the ties. "I don't know if I'll make it to ten…"

"Open your eyes."

His request was firm and I tore my lids open, looking across to him.

My focus immediately dropped to his hand.

He had lowered his pants to his thighs, his erection standing proud as he pumped his hand up and down his shaft. He rotated his hand as he moved from base to tip, the way I stroke him while taking him in my mouth.

My jaw clenched and a deep, grumbling sound escaped from me.

"Do you wish you were touching me right now?" he asked, teasingly. I nodded. "Or do you wish I was touching you?"

"Both," I sighed.

With his free hand, he held up the controller. He clicked it twice. My legs shook hard as I screamed.

"Just keep looking at me," he ordered. "I want you to watch. See what you do to me… _This_ –" He gripped himself. "This is what you do to me. It's all you, baby."

"Christian… Please…"

"What?"

"I want you," I begged.

"Not yet," he grinned.

He toyed with the controller and then, all of a sudden, the vibrations were gone.

I exhaled a huff, feeling bereft.

"What?" I shook my head, scowling at him. "What are you doing?"

"Taking my time with you," he repeated his earlier comment. He continued to play with himself. "You'll come when I want you to."

"Please?"

He pumped himself, a trickle of pre-release oozing from his tip.

"Oh come on!" I grunted. "Stop teasing me."

"No," he shook his head. "I like teasing you."

"Baby…"

"And I love the sound of you pleading with me," he purred. "I love hearing your sweet moans."

"You'll get to hear them if you turn that fucking thing back on!"

His grin somehow stretched even higher across his face.

"That's my girl," he nodded. He switched the pebble back on, turning up the intensity by several degrees. "Scream for me."

* * *

My skin prickled as the cool air circled around my tangled limbs, the satin sheet only loosely covering my calves and nothing else.

I was laying across Christian, my cheek on his chest, his heart hammering under my ear.

He was as exhausted as me. He struggled to regain control of his breaths.

We had made our way around the room, finally ending up on the bed as he intended. By that point, I could barely stand up, my legs like jelly. Christian had pressed his entire body weight into me, his hands gripping my wrists as he pinned me to the mattress and pounded his hips into mine.

"I think I love this room," he panted. I tilted my head back and smiled at the dazed expression on his flushed face. "Fuck me…"

"I already have," I whispered. I pecked a kiss above his left nipple. "But I'll do it again if you want."

He quietly laughed and I felt his lips against the top of my head.

He hugged me tight to him for a moment longer, before shifting under me and swinging his legs around the side of the bed. He gathered to his feet and stretched his arms high above his head. I watched as he collected his pyjama pants from the floor and pulled them up his legs.

I grinned as he exited the room, knowing what he was about to do.

Although this is the first time we have played in here in a while, we have dabbled in kinkier forays downstairs, in our bedroom. After each session, he sets about the same aftercare routine.

He admitted to me that he never did this with any of his subs, though he knew he should have. He said he should have taken care of them, at least take an interest in their well-being in the aftermath of a tryst, instead of casting them away once he had used them.

With me, however, he wants to take care of my needs. He wants to shower me with affection and comfort, ensuring that I never feel used by him. He needs to make sure I know this is a mutual affair. That we are equals.

Our cuddling now over, I knew he would be in our bathroom, leaning over the tub to turn on the faucet to run us a bubble bath. He will pour lashings of essentials oils into the water, leaving the room only briefly to grab a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator.

He will massage every inch of my body after drying me off. He will dress me and brush my hair.

We'll eat whatever food is in the fridge, something quick and easy, and then we will curl up in bed. Sometimes we will talk for a few hours, other times we will simply lay there in blissful silence until sleep welcomes us with open arms.

I love this part of playtime. I love seeing the shift in him – seeing the dominant alpha slip away to reveal my adoring protector.

My eyes flitted back to the doorway as Christian reappeared. He was holding my fluffy bathrobe.

"Your bath awaits, my lady," he smiled.

He held open the robe and I climbed off the bed, stumbling over to him and stepping into it. It was warm, fresh from the dryer, exactly how I like it.

"Your legs are working, then?"

"Only just," I snorted.

He tugged on the belt around my waist, pulling into his arms.

"Now it's time for me to pamper you," he muttered.

"Did you remember to light my candles?" I asked. "The scented ones?"

"Of course," he nodded. He took me by the hand and led me out of the room, locking the door behind us. "Three lavender and chamomile candles, spaced out around the faucets."

"And my body lotion?" I teased.

I knew he wouldn't forget any step of the routine, but the continued stirring and spasms in my stomach urged me to press him.

To provoke him.

"On the counter," he confirmed. He kept his head forward as he dragged me down the hall. "It's a new bottle. The other one was empty."

"What about my pyjamas?"

"I've chosen something for you to wear," he said. "The pink tartan pants and a blue camisole."

"And my –"

He came to an abrupt halt and spun around to face me. He exhaled a low huff, his brow arched and his gaze hard.

He took a single step forward and towered over me.

"I know what you're doing," he sighed.

"I have no idea what you're talking about…" I shrugged, playing dumb. "I'm just making sure you haven't missed anything."

"No, you're trying to earn yourself another visit in there," he said, pointing to the playroom door.

_Busted_.

"You're trying to wind me up."

"Never," I breathed, shaking my head and feigning exasperation.

He reached around me and grabbing my butt with both hands, pinching my cheeks and eliciting a wince from me.

"I've already worked you too hard," he whispered. He lessened his grip. "Your ass is a lovely shade of pink. If I do anymore to you tonight, you'll bruise. I'll never leave a mark on you, Ana, you know that. Redness fades quick, bruises linger."

I noted the resolve in his voice and accepted his reply. Playtime was over for today.

"What about tomorrow?" I bargained, narrowing my eyes. "Can we resume play tomorrow?"

"As long as you're up for it," he nodded. "I have no plans for us. It'll be just the two of us for the entire weekend."

I licked my lips and dropped my eyes to his crotch. I lightly brushed my palm over his bulge, causing him to jerk against me.

"Fuck!"

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this way," I shook my head. "I could spend every minute of every day with you inside me and it still wouldn't be enough."

"Ana…"

"I love feeling you deep inside me," I breathed. I raised my eyes back up his. "I'll never tire of you."

"I should fucking hope not," he grunted.

He allowed me to run my fingers over the rigid lines of his length once more before he jumped back, putting space between us again.

"No," he shook his head. "Get downstairs now. It's bath time."

"But –"

"The water will get cold."

I pouted my lips and skirted around him.

Peeking over my shoulder, I looked back at him and saw that he was staring at my ass.

He was biting his lip.

I had him right where I wanted him.

"You have ten seconds to get down those stairs," he announced.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll fuck you on them."

My steps instantly slowed and he growled under his breath.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Hoping you're all well and stay safe. Sending love to anyone who needs a bit of comfort in these difficult times.**

**I hope you like this chapter. More coming soon!**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**Tammi** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked the chapter. I hope you enjoy this one too! Much Love x

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! I'm glad they made the playroom their own too. It was time they changed it, out with the old as Ana said! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**Jeangb** – Thank you! Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! The title definitely applies to them both, but will also hold greater meaning later in the story… Much Love x

**Reds77** – Thank you! I'm really glad you liked it. Those scenes aren't always easy to write, but they sure are fun! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one. Much Love x

* * *

Over the next week my good mood only continued to improve.

For the first time in a while, I could truly say every day was spent with a smile on my face. My neck muscles had never felt so relaxed or free of tension. I had almost forgotten they didn't need to be so stiff and wrought all the time!

The troubles at SIP were shifting further and further into the back of my mind, my attention focusing on my current workload and nothing else. I can't control other people's behaviour, but I can dictate how I respond to it. And right now, I choose to give all of those who doubt me the finger. Screw them.

This is something I should have done a long time ago. I realise that now. I was slow on the uptake but I got there in the end, that's all that matters.

Better late than never, huh?

Things were starting to improve on the mom front too. This surprised me the most. She had replied to my initial messages, but I had expected her to fall back into radio silence soon after. Yet, she continued to respond to me. She wasn't ignoring me anymore.

I was talking to her more now than I had in years. We had been texting back and forth, mostly talking about menial, day-to-day things. It was all very civil and polite, but still lacked the kind of tone you would want from mommy dearest. It lacked any real emotion.

But it was a positive step forward. Small steps can lead to bigger leaps later down the line. The lines of communication were finally open. Isn't that what I wanted? Just to get her talking?

I knew we had a lot to discuss, but I was hopeful this meant easier times were on the horizon for us. That at least we would be able to sit down and talk to each other, get everything out in the open.

And with us having talked more, not a single insult in sight, I was opening up to the idea of visiting her in Georgia.

I shared my thoughts with Christian while I was making our dinner.

"That's what you want? To go see her?" he checked, eyeing me from his seat at the breakfast bar. I nodded as I munched on some of the carrot sticks I'd grabbed from the refrigerator, feeling peckish. "Okay. I'm assuming you want to get it over and done with, sooner rather than later?"

"Yes," I agreed. "I think I should strike while the iron's still hot. My mom can be fickle. She could easily do a 180 and change her mind."

"You sure she doesn't have bipolar or something?" he asked. There was no sharpness in his voice, only genuine concern.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "On some level I just think she's incredibly selfish. She only does what she wants to do. Right now, she wants to talk and so do I."

"When do you want to fly out there?"

"I was thinking next weekend," I offered. "I won't need to take any time off work that way. I'm running out of vacation days! I'm trying to save them for the honeymoon."

"I'll sort everything out," Christian promised. "Don't worry. I'll figure it out."

He watched me for a moment, seeming to study my face for some unknown reason. Eventually, his lips parted, his easy smile dropping.

"I have a confession to make," he muttered under his breath, his dark eyes softening.

I pushed my hands into the countertop, readying myself.

"What?"

He stilled for a second and then sighed.

"I've been doing some digging into your mother," he said. He gulped hard and quickly held up his hands in surrender. "I wanted to be sure you weren't leapfrogging into a situation neither of us want to be in again."

He didn't need to elaborate. I knew exactly what he meant.

"I needed to know everything was legit," he added.

"What do you mean?"

"I ran a check on the number you have for her," he explained. "To make sure it's actually hers."

"I could have told you –"

"I needed to settle my own doubts, that's all."

"And? Were you?"

"I shouldn't have worried," he admitted on a deep exhale. "It's registered to her and can be traced to her house in Savannah."

My mother has had the same cell phone for years. I didn't doubt it was her phone for a second.

But I understand his worries. They are more than justified, after everything we have been through.

"When you mentioned her recently and I figured there was a chance you'd contact her, I've had a team follow her," he continued, lowering his voice to a whisper. He shifted on his seat, as if he was feeling uncomfortable having to divulge this information. "I wanted up-to-date images of her. See what she's getting up to, that sort of thing. I wanted to know who we're up against here."

"Is there anything I should be concerned about?"

He shook his head.

"She seems pretty damn normal to me," he shrugged. "She goes to a Pilates class every Tuesday morning, and does her grocery shopping on Thursday afternoons. Her and Bob dine out at a seafood restaurant at least twice a week."

He pulled out his phone and rose from his seat, coming over to me. He showed me his screen, a covert picture of my mother staring back at me.

A breath caught in my throat.

She hasn't changed at all.

Her dark hair, the same shade as my own, is still long, scaling halfway down her spine. Whereas mine has a natural wave, hers is poker straight. She's shockingly pale despite the Georgian sun, another trait I inherited from her. In the picture she's wearing an ankle length yellow dress, a white cardigan strewn over her shoulders, huge sunglasses on top of her head.

From this distance, a good ten feet between her and the photographer, she looks much younger than her years. We could be sisters, not mother and daughter.

"I couldn't believe how much you look like her," Christian said as he swiped through a series of pictures - her at the grocery store picking out vegetables, selecting a bottle of wine from the shelves, smiling at a cashier. "You're practically her twin."

I nodded, unsure of what to say to that.

When I was a kid, everyone used to comment about how much I was like her. I had seen photographs of my biological father and I knew I looked nothing like him. He was blonde with dark green eyes. I was Carla's mini-me, that's for sure.

I could handle people saying I looked like her, but I used to pray they wouldn't say the same about the way I behaved. Even at a young age, I knew the way my mother acted wasn't normal. Wasn't acceptable. She was a user and had no regard for other people's feelings.

I dreaded turning into her.

I still do…

"What else did you find out about her?" I wondered.

"Not much," he shrugged again. "She leads a boring life from the looks of it. Bob evidently dotes on her. We have pictures of him bringing home gifts almost every day. Huge bouquets of flowers, chocolates, literally every day."

I rolled my eyes.

"Not even I'm that bad!" he snorted.

"It sounds about right though," I hummed. "My mother is an attention seeker. She loves being the centre of attention and she loves being spoilt. Ray doted on her too."

"It's a good job you take after Ray then, huh?" he quipped, smirking at me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side. "Now I know she doesn't pose a physical threat and that we're not dealing with a potential safety risk, I'm comfortable with the idea of us heading out there to see her."

He pecked a kiss to my temple.

I didn't speak.

He tightened his hold on me.

"Ana?"

"Hm?"

"You're not mad at me for checking out your mother?"

"I bloody hope you weren't checking out my mother!" I snorted, arching my neck to look up at him. "Otherwise we'll be having talks, mister."

"You know what I mean," he smiled. He brushed his thumb across my cheek. "It's not a problem, is it?"

"No," I shook my head. "You've always put my safety first, why would that be any different where my mother is concerned? My mother, who I haven't seen or spoken to for over a year? Of course you'd have to check out the situation first, it would be ridiculous if you didn't."

His shoulders sagged with relief.

He kissed me firmly on the lips and then broke away, heading back over to his stool.

"Maybe if everything goes well, you and Carla could go dress shopping together?" he suggested, sitting down. I frowned at him. "That's something moms and daughters usually do, isn't it? Shop for the wedding dress?"

"I wouldn't know," I shrugged. "But that seems a bit much. I'm not sure we'll be on the girly shopping trips stage any time soon."

_Or ever…_

He hummed and began tapping his fingertips on the marbled counter.

"Anyway," I sighed. "I've already been shopping for a dress."

His eyes opened widen, surprise fleeting through his gaze.

"You have? When?"

"Tuesday," I said. "I was having lunch with Kate and we decided to go to a small boutique near SIP. It was only a quick look around, just so I could get some ideas about what I might like."

"And did you see something you liked?"

I nodded and gave him a wry smile.

I wasn't going to reveal any more details about what I had found, but I had gained a general sense of what I would want my dress to look like from those brief moments in the store.

I had seen a stunning empire-waisted gown displayed in the window, the lace overlay and pearl accents catching my eye as soon as I saw it. The bodice and skirt were perfect but I didn't like the capped sleeves or the high neckline. I knew I wanted long sleeves – we are getting married in winter, after all – and something that didn't cut me off at the throat. I don't exactly have an impressive cleavage but what little I have I want to show off.

Tastefully, of course.

Mia had mentioned the idea of having a dress specially made. A one-of-a-kind. Maybe she could help organise a meeting with a designer? I'm sure her address book is full of them…

"Did you try on a dress?" Christian asked, fishing for information.

"I didn't," I shook my head. "But I'll probably get to try something on soon… and, before you even ask, yes, the dress will have lace on it! I already promised you that."

He gave me a cheeky grin and winked.

"I think we should sit down and talk about the colour scheme tonight," I offered. "See if we can come to a decision? It would be nice to tick that off the list."

"Sure," he nodded. He stared at me, his eyes twinkling. "I know you have already created mood boards…"

I felt my cheeks blush.

On my desk in the library, I have a mountain of clippings Kate has given me, extracts from her magazines that match the kind of simplicity and elegance we are aiming for. I couldn't help piecing pictures together, trying to get an idea of what our big day will look like.

"Are you starting to get excited?" he asked.

"Yes," I admitted, a grin spreading across my mouth. Butterflies whirled in my tummy every time I think about walking down the aisle and saying 'I do'. "I just really want everything to be perfect."

"I'll make sure it's perfect," he said forcefully. "I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you get the wedding you want."

"And your wants don't come into it? It's your day too."

"As long as you're happy, that's all I care about," he shook his head. He winked again. "Happy wife, happy life."

I threw a carrot stick at him, his laugh rousing a giggle from me. He caught the stick and chomped on it loudly.

"Have you decided who your groomsmen will be?" I asked.

He nodded, swallowing hard. "I've asked Elliot to be my best man," he revealed.

"That will please Kate," I smirked. "She's my maid of honour."

"Flynn has agreed to be an usher," he added. "Are you still having Mia as a bridesmaid?"

"Yes," I nodded. "I did ask Rhian if she would be part of my bridal party too, but she declined. She doesn't think she'll be ready for playing dress-up and being on show."

"That's fair," he hummed. "She will have a newborn to look after. Plus, she'll have all the other kids to keep in check. Shit, I don't envy her!"

"Harriet won't be a problem," I chuckled. "She's so excited to be a flower girl with Sophie."

He grinned at the mention of Harriet. The other special girl in his life.

"She'll make a beautiful flower girl," he declared. "I'm really glad you decided to include her."

"I couldn't not," I snorted. "She'd have worn me down until I said yes anyway. She's a handful, that girl."

I shifted my attention back to dinner while Christian dipped into his thoughts, quietening as he stared into space. The sight of him so carefree and relaxed was a wonderful sight.

"You really love her, don't you?"

"I do," he nodded, proudly. "She's a great kid. The boys are too. I love all of them."

"Who would've thought the mighty Christian Grey would be so happy around kids!" I laughed.

"I know," he shook his head. "It confuses the fuck out of me, but I really like being around them now. I never allowed myself to get close to them before."

"You didn't allow yourself to get close to anyone," I corrected him.

He agreed on a soft hum. "I'm not as scared anymore," he muttered. "I don't think everyone is going to abandon me as soon as I let them in."

"Anyone who abandons you is a fucking lunatic," I said. "Christian, you're incredible."

He dropped his eyes, his cheeks starting to turn pink.

Smiling, I returned to the stove and stirred the sauce I had made. After a few minutes, I was ready to plate up. I was about to ask him to grab some plates from the cabinet when his phone bleeped near the microwave, where it was plugged in and charging.

He went over and snatched it up, checking whatever message was demanding attention.

A deep frown creased his forehead.

"Who is it?"

"Oh my god."

My gut lurched.

The tone of his voice unsettled me, shivers breaking out over my skin.

"Christian, who is it?"

"Flynn," he whispered.

"What's happened?"

Christian came over to me and passed over his phone.

**Hi all, I'm finally getting round to sharing our news. Rhian gave birth yesterday morning to a beautiful boy. Both mum and baby are doing great, despite little man's early arrival. We will keep you updated. So far everything is going well.**

My eyes opened as wide as they could, my jaw dropping.

"Shit," I shook my head. I peered up at him. "I…"

"I can't believe it," he sighed. "I thought she still had another month to go?"

"She did," I confirmed. "I think she had another five weeks left. He's really early."

Christian read back over the message.

"At least they're both safe and well," he said. "Fuck's sake… There's another Flynn in the world."

I broke into a light giggle, my stomach jerking as the nervous laugh twisted through me.

I was crossing everything for Rhian and the baby, hoping they stay fit and well.

"They're trying to take over the world, aren't they?" he quipped, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Rhian is done on the baby front now. She's adamant this is their last kid. She mentioned something about John getting the snip."

Christian winced at hearing that, shuddering from top to toe.

"Two six-year-olds, a four-year-old and now a newborn," he breathed. "Holy fucking shit."

"Harriet got her wish after all," I smiled. "She was desperate for a baby brother."

Christian put down his phone and clapped his hands together.

"Let's raise a toast," he announced, rushing over to the wine ridge and pulling out a bottle of champagne. He poured two glasses and handed one to me, chinking his glass to mine. "This is definitely worth celebrating… To baby boy Flynn."

"May he live a long and happy life," I nodded. "He's one lucky boy, having John and Rhian as parents."

"The luckiest," Christian grinned.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Hope you're all staying safe and well. As always, sending love to those who desperately need it in these difficult times.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. Who's ready to meet Baby Flynn? :)**

**Much Love and Stay Safe,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**Lavendarjade** – Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying it. Much Love x

**Reds77** – Thank you! Yes, another Flynn to love and cuddle! I hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**Tammi** – Thank you! I think Christian will always be extra careful where Ana's safety is concerned, especially after what happened at Maitrise. But Ana knows and accepts this. She doesn't mind him checking up on things. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! Hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

**Jeangb** – Thank you! We'll learn more about Carla and that situation very soon! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Much Love X

**SuzB** – Thank you! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

The second we learned that Rhian and baby boy Flynn were back home and ready for visitors, Christian and I jumped in the car and raced over to their house. Ever since the news broke, I had been desperate to smother my friend with hugs and congratulations, but also to get a whiff of that sweet newborn smell everyone seems to coo over. I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

For the past few days I had scoured the internet for advice on what to buy a new mother. We had already bought a few gifts for the baby – some ultra-soft blankets, a cashmere cardigan and a plush teddy bear – but I didn't want to leave Rhian out of the mix. She deserves to be treated too, she has just birthed a human after all! After coming across various suggestions online, I decided to make her a gift basket, filling it with various lotions and potions and goodies for her to pamper herself with whenever she can grab five minutes on her own.

Christian also added a bottle of whiskey for Flynn. I guessed he was planning to wet the baby's head at some point this evening. My suspicions were confirmed when he asked me if I wanted to drive.

Rhian was curled up on the couch when we arrived, tucked into one corner with an array of cushions and pillows propping her up. She looked fresh-faced and spritely, her hair pushed back into a loose bun, her skin still glowing. Happiness was radiating from her.

There was a white and blue bassinet directly in front of her. The other Flynn children surrounded the new baby, each of their hands dipping inside to grab a feel of their baby brother.

The grin on Rhian's face as she watched them was like no other I had ever seen.

"You didn't need to buy me anything!" she shook her head when I passed over the basket, after saying my congratulations. Her eyes glazed over as she peeked inside. She sniffed hard, fighting back tears. "Jesus, look at me, crying over nothing. I'm such a wreck at the moment."

I quickly sat down beside her and enveloped her in a hug.

"Thank you," she gulped, composing herself. She blinked rapidly and looked up to the ceiling. "I really appreciate this. No one has ever bought me gifts after giving birth… Well, no one except John."

"Really?" I frowned. "But you need looking after too. After what you've just been through? You deserve to be spoiled rotten for going through _that_ again."

"They don't call it labour for nothing," she snorted, cracking a smile.

As the children moved away and darted across the room, I stole the opportunity to ease forward and peek inside the bassinet. My heart immediately jumped into my throat.

"Oh Rhian," I sighed. My fingers crept to my mouth. "He's absolutely gorgeous."

The baby was wide awake, his enormous navy-blue eyes shifting this way and that as he rubbed the back of his head into the mattress. He had a light spattering of dark hair, the colour matching Rhian and Harriet's ebony locks.

I tentatively reached inside and stroked my fingers across his tummy. He twisted under my touch, wriggling for a second before expelling a yawn that tugged on my heartstrings.

I could feel tears building in my own eyes.

_Keep it together, Steele. Whatever you do, keep it together._

Christian and Flynn ambled into the room, each carrying a tumbler of caramel liquid. They made their way over to us.

"He's beautiful," Christian said, glimpsing at the baby. "You two sure know how to create good looking kids."

A ripple of laughter circled the room.

"So, does this little guy have a name yet?" he asked the important question.

Rhian and Flynn shared a silent smile. Flynn gestured to his wife with a single nod, allowing her to tell us.

"Joseph Johnathan Flynn," she announced, grinning. "But we're calling him –"

"Joey!" Harriet squeaked.

She had materialised next to Christian, her hand reaching up to grab his. She clutched his fingers hard as she bounced on the spot.

"We called him Joey because he's small. Daddy said baby kangaroos are called Joey."

Christian passed his glass to Flynn and leaned down to pick up Harriet.

"That's right, they are called that," he smiled at her, settling her on his hip. "But he doesn't look like a kangaroo to me."

"Nooooo, silly," she chuckled. "But Mummy carries him in a pouch, so that makes him Joey."

I twisted my head to Rhian. She rolled her eyes.

"I have a carry sling," she clarified. "But, yeah, he's Joey for short. Originally, we thought about calling him JJ, but Joey seems to suit him more."

"It's a great name," Christian nodded. He narrowed his eyes at Harriet. "Although something tells me you want to take all the credit for naming him, huh? You little monster!"

Harriet laughed and threw herself into his shoulder, wrapping her arms tightly around Christian's neck.

He began spinning her on the spot, twirling her several times before carting her out of the room. I assumed they were heading for the kitchen, ready to load up on sugar. Flynn followed quickly in their wake, the twins trudging behind their father.

I slowly returned my eyes to Joey, something about him demanding my attention. I could hardly bring myself to stop looking at him, trying to take in every last detail of his perfect face. His round cheeks, his dark eyelashes, the small pucker in his lips.

I had never spent much time around babies before, but I could hand-on-heart say he was the cutest baby I had ever seen.

"He's going to be a heartbreaker when he's older," I smirked. "He's just so…"

There were no words. I simply shook my head and shrugged.

Rhian shuffled forward, moving to the edge of the couch. She winced, but it didn't stop her from reaching over and scooping Joey out of the crib.

She held him up, shushing his moans, and then turned him over to me.

I raised my hands, matching her son's protest.

"I've never held a –"

"Now's as good a time as any to rectify that," she dismissed my objection and proceeded to settle Joey into the crook of my left arm. She positioned him close to my body, his head nestled in my elbow. "There you go. There's nothing to it, all you have to do is make sure their heads are supported."

She bowed her head to his and kissed his hair, smoothing her fingers down his plump cheek.

"Is he okay?" I checked. "Am I…?"

"He's fine," she smiled. "Don't worry. Relax."

I exhaled a deep breath and tried to drop my shoulders.

"He's so tiny," I whispered. "And lightweight. I guess I assumed he'd be heavier."

"He was 5lbs 11oz," she said. "The doctors think he would have been a big boy if he'd decided to stay in 'til term. He'll gain weight soon enough. He's already a good feeder."

"It's not a problem then, with him being premature?"

"No," she smiled, shaking her head. "They checked him over immediately after he was born, and they gave him a clean bill of health. We had to stay in hospital for them to check us both over, but we're fine."

She edged back into the cushions, her movements slow. She gave another wince.

"Are you in pain?"

"I'm sore," she laughed. "Just two stitches this time around, thank god!"

I screwed up my face in sympathy, my legs instinctively pressing together.

"His birth was much easier than the others'," she continued. "The twins were four weeks early, and they were an emergency c-section after the labour stopped progressing. I had Harriet naturally, but I was in labour for three days. I was overdue with her. That stubborn little madam did not want to come out!"

"How long did it last this time? The labour?"

"About six and a half hours," she shrugged. "Not long at all. My contractions started sometime after midnight, my waters broke around 3am, he popped out at 6:57."

"Wow…" I glanced down at him. "You were eager to arrive, weren't you?"

He grizzled in response, blinking up at me slowly.

"Was it painful?" I wondered. "I know it's obviously a stupid question, but –"

"There's no such thing as a stupid question," Rhian cut over me. She rested her hand on my upper arm, drawing my eyes back to hers. "Ask whatever you want. You haven't had kids, so you wouldn't know about these things. But yes, it was painful. _Extremely_. Hence why John's getting the snip."

I chuckled. "I think you're amazing," I said. "I don't think I could do it."

"Every woman thinks that at some point," she shrugged again. "It's just fear. It's the unknown. But the body knows what to do. It takes over, all you have to do is go along for the ride. Let it do its thing and trust your doctor."

I had heard so many horror stories from mothers at SIP, overhearing them discussing the painful, gruesome details of their respective births. It was enough to make anyone want to permanently seal their legs shut.

"Definitely no more kids after Joey then?"

"Oh nooo," Rhian shook her head, her eyes widening in horror. "We've already had this chat and the first chance he gets, John's getting fixed. I'll do it myself if I have to. I am not going through this again. Four is plenty."

I grinned, trying hard to restrain myself from laughing too hard, not wanting to disturb Joey as he started to snooze in my arms.

"Do you think you and Christian will ever have one?" she asked, dropping her voice to a whisper.

"I think so," I nodded. "In a few years maybe. Not anytime soon."

I stared at Joey as he slipped soundly into sleep, watching the way his chest rose and fell. The urge to kiss him was unfathomable, prompting me to lean down and peck his cheek.

I took a deep breath and sighed.

"Oh my god…"

"His smell?" Rhian asked. I nodded, snapping my head up. "It's amazing, isn't it? I wish we could bottle it. There's nothing else like it."

"I could eat him up," I groaned. My chest began to swell, a warm, tingly feeling oozing through my torso. "He's so perfect. I love him already."

Picking up one of his hands, I marvelled at the way he wrapped his fist around my index finger, gripping me.

"I'll be back in a minute," Rhian said, pushing forward again and rising to her feet. "I need to grab some water before I feed him again."

"I can –"

"No, you stay there," she urged, holding up her hand. "He's happy where he is, and you're doing a great job… Besides, it's good for me to keep moving. I'll become a part of that bloody sofa if I sit on it for too long."

Before I could say anything else, she was out of the room, passing Christian on her way through the door.

"She's left you holding the baby, huh?" he smirked, sauntering over to me. He took up Rhian's space. "He's a handsome little guy."

"He is," I nodded.

Christian brushed the back of his fingers across Joey's forehead.

"It's hard to believe any of us used to be this small," he muttered, shaking his head. He raised his gaze and smiled at me, his eyes fleeting between my own and my lips. "You look great."

He brought his mouth to mine and kissed me, the act so light and tender that it caught me off guard. I shivered, my skin prickling.

It sounded like there was more to his sentence, something left hanging on the end of his words. I didn't press him, though. He was too busy dipping to take a whiff of the baby, as I had done moments before. The sigh that he exhaled made the hairs at the back of my neck stand up.

* * *

I was sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with the twins. Thomas and William, with their light brown hair and long limbs, were the image of Flynn. They were side-by-side and rolling trucks along the carpet, bashing them together.

Harriet was next to me, quietly fussing over her toy cat. She leaned into me, her head on my arm.

"Auntie Ana?" she asked. I waited for her question. "Do you like playing with us?"

"I love it!" I exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her dainty shoulders. "I love playing with you guys. I wish I could come over and spend more time with you."

"Do it," she replied, throwing her head back and staring at me with her sapphire eyes. "You could live here with us."

"I don't think that would work, sweetheart," I shook my head. I lowered my voice. "Christian says I snore, so I don't think you'd like that very much."

"No, no snoring," she chuckled. She wriggled up onto my lap, tucking herself into me. "I wanted a baby brother."

"You did," I smiled. I brushed her hair back from her face. "Are you happy now?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I wished every night Joey would be a boy. I really wanted a brother because that means I'm still the only girl."

"Do you like being a big sister?"

"It's okay," she shrugged, nonchalant. "He doesn't do anything but sleep and cry, but Mummy said he'll get bigger soon. Then we can play together."

I longed to see the four of them all playing together, rolling around on the floor, laughing and giggling.

The twins usually stick together, but they do include Harriet in their games now and then. I wondered if, when Joey is older, whether he and Harriet will team up against their older siblings. Two against two.

"Do you have a brother?" Harriet asked, nudging me in the stomach as she spoke. "Or a sister?"

"No," I shook my head. "No, I don't. It was just me when I was growing up."

"You were on your own?"

"Yeah, not like you."

She pondered this for a moment.

"Were you sad? Because I would be sad if I didn't have Thomas or William or Joey. I would be very sad."

"I was a little sad," I admitted. "But not anymore. Not now I'm grown up."

She fell silent again and then swiftly nodded her head, giving me a defiant look that was pure Rhian seeping through.

"I'll be your sister," she declared. "You can be my sister and you won't be sad ever again."

For the second time this evening I felt myself tearing up.

_These damn kids…_

"That's lovely, thank you," I hummed, pulling her tighter into my chest. "Boys –" I gathered their attention, their matching dark eyes shooting to me. "Come here. I need a hug."

They left their trucks and crawled over on their knees, crashing into me and Harriet, throwing their arms around us.

"I love all of you," I told them, kissing each of their foreheads in turn. "I want you to know that, okay? I'll always be here for you guys."

"Love you, Auntie Ana," the boys mumbled in unison.

"Love you too," Harriet whispered into my chest.

I closed my eyes and savoured every second of their embrace, enjoying the feel of their tiny bodies against mine. Their love was given so freely and without restrictions. They had a lot of love to give, and they were happy to share it with whoever is around.

Pulling my head back from the huddle, I glanced back towards the couches. Christian had been sat over there with John and Rhian, the three of them talking amongst themselves. But now it was just him.

His chin was dipped, his attention on his arms as he gently bounced them up and down. My lips parted, my jaw hanging open, as he rocked Joey. His mouth moved but I couldn't hear what he was saying, his words reserved for the baby.

The way he was holding him, with such ease, no tension or worry in his face…

He's a natural.

All of this picture seems so natural. Like it's meant to be.

"Why are you crying?"

Harriet's voice sounded in my ear, breaking my focus. I returned my focus to her, noticing that the boys had already moved away and were now back to crashing their trucks into each other.

I rubbed my cheeks, finding tears streaming down them.

"Mummy's been crying too," she added, quietly. "But Daddy said it's okay. It's more-moans."

"Right," I smiled.

"Are more-moans making you cry?"

"I think so," I nodded. I pecked her thick mass of black curls again. "I'm not sad, I promise. I'm happy. These are happy tears."

Content with my answer, she dropped her eyes to her cat and began hugging it close to her. She spoke to him as if he was real, her own baby that needs taking care of.

A light tap on my shoulder made me look to my left. Flynn was crouched beside me, grinning like a mad man.

He gestured to Christian and Joey.

"It's quite something, isn't it?" Flynn hummed. "Quite a sight to behold."

"It is," I nodded, blowing out a hard sigh.

"He goes from not unable to stomach anyone being near him to gladly holding a baby," he snorted. "Talk about doing a complete 180!"

"He was really excited to come meet the baby," I said. "He was probably just as excited as me."

"He's a changed man," Flynn nodded. "He's matured so much in the last few months. Well, he must have if he's this eager to finally settle down. I never thought I'd see the day, that's for sure."

I don't think anyone in the world has anticipated the infamous Christian Grey ever settling down. He was a confirmed bachelor to some, a closeted gay to others. An enigma to everyone.

"I know you'll both make wonderful parents one day," Flynn observed. "You have what it takes. Both of you. The patience, the love, the compassion. It's all there in droves."

His eyes darted from Christian to me, his dark gaze rounding as he met mine.

"Luckily, you're going to get a lot of practice with our herd," he laughed. "Rhian and I will definitely be calling on you for babysitting duties. I already know this lot is going to drive us bananas."

"You can count on us," I grinned. "Any time."

He placed his hand on my back.

"I'm pleased Christian found you," he said, his voice turning a hint more serious now. "You are the breath of fresh air he needed. I'm glad you got the chance to see him for who he is, not who he wants the world to think he is."

"He had to let his guard down sooner or later," I shrugged. "It's just by chance he did it with me."

Flynn smiled and patted my shoulder, pushing back up to his feet. He walked over to the couch, resuming his place beside Christian.

My fiancé tore his stare from the baby as his friend sat down, the two of them sharing a quiet word before his gaze shot towards me.

His brows pulled together for a second as he mouthed 'are you okay?'.

I nodded my head and smiled, wiping away the remaining tears trickling down my cheeks.

_Happy tears_, I mouthed back to him_. I'm happy. Really happy._


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Sending love and hugs to those who need it. The world is a crazy place right now, but I hope you can find some escape in this chapter.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**Paula White** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Hope you enjoy this one too. Much Love x

**DoloresDeeHowe** – Thank you! The Flynn kids really do love their honorary aunt and uncle! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. I hope you enjoy this one! Much Love x

**Tammi** – Thank you! Oh yes, absolutely smitten with him! Hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**Reds77** – Thank you! Haha, I think everyone's ovaries would pop at the sight of Christian holding a baby! I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

**Jeangb** – Thank you! I hope you're keeping well too, and I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

Saturday morning arrived, a weekend of sweet nothingness and relaxation stretching out in front of me. Today was destined to be a lazy day.

It was for me, at least.

Christian was up bright and early, waking at the crack of dawn to prepare for his PT session with Claude. The pair meet every weekend for circuit training and sparring. It was admirable, really, the commitment Christian shows to his physical health, always keen to maintain his perfect weight and stature. Every time he pulls on his workout gear, there's a part of me that wonders whether I should start working out too.

I quickly shut that voice up with more sleep and cookies. Lots of cookies.

There's only one form of exercise I'm interested in, and it doesn't involve clothes or even getting out of bed…

I woke up fully at around ten, rolling onto my side and instinctively reaching for my phone on the side table. The mandatory morning scroll through social media was beckoning me. My circle of friends on Facebook was limited, a recent cull cutting out anyone who might be inclined to leak information about me and Christian to the press. Upon Kate's advice I had changed my name online to Annie and my profile picture was a simple black and white image of the Sound, all of my privacy settings on extreme. I was hoping to hide in plain sight from the weirdos and creeps. Christian still wasn't a fan of social media, refusing to even entertain the idea of setting up an account. I couldn't blame him. He gets enough attention from the public as it is.

As I scrolled through my feed, I smiled as the latest pictures Rhian has uploaded came into view. They were all of Joey, posted throughout the night. There was a particularly beautiful shot of him laying across Harriet's lap, John cupping his head while he stared down at the two of them. Harriet grinned wildly at the camera.

_Oh Jesus…_

Every time I see pictures of Joey I feel a sudden whirling in the pit of my stomach, butterflies spinning around like crazy. I had never been the type of person to swoon over puppies or kittens or babies, but little Joey was doing something to me. He had me hook, line and sinker.

Was it strange to admit I was looking forward to Rhian and John calling on me to babysit?

I peeked up from my phone as Christian came into the bedroom. His t-shirt was draped over his shoulder, his torso reddened and glistening with sweat, the waistband of his navy shorts damp.

"You're up," he nodded. He puffed out his flushed cheeks and sat down on the edge of the bed. He used his t-shirt to mop his brow. "I didn't think you'd be awake yet. You usually sleep a lot longer."

"You make it sound like I'm lazy," I pouted.

"Not lazy," he shook his head. "But you do enjoy your sleep. Now more so than ever, for some reason."

"It's because I don't get nearly enough," I said. "It's your fault. You keep me awake most of the night."

That familiar, wicked glint appeared in his gaze. I rolled my eyes.

"You're sick," I snorted, shaking my head.

"I don't hear you complaining during the act," he protested. He reached over to my table and grabbed my water bottle, taking a long glug. "In fact, you always ask for me. You beg me to keep going. I simply give you what you want."

"Because you're such a gentleman, huh?"

"You bet, baby," he winked.

I stuck my tongue out at him and returned my focus to my phone. I turned the screen around to show him the photo I had just been admiring.

"He's a handsome boy," Christian beamed. "I'm tempted to call Flynn and ask if we can go around today to see them all again."

I smiled.

It was good to know we're on the same page, both smitten with the blue-eyed boy.

"That would be nice," I nodded, closing down my phone and dropping it onto the bed. I stretched my arms up over my head. "But I could happily stay here all day."

My hands covered my eyes, right as a fuzzy feeling settled between my brows. It spread across my forehead, a kind of burning pain oozing down behind my eyes.

"What's wrong?" Christian asked, his voice instantly laced with concern. "Are you okay?"

"I think I have a headache coming on," I grumbled.

"Another? Didn't you have one last night as well?"

I nodded and peeled my fingers from my eyes.

"Did you take any pills for it? I put a strip on the bathroom counter for you."

"No, I forgot," I confessed, shrugging apologetically. "I'll take a couple soon. I thought it would go after some sleep."

His frown pulled tight on his brows, his hand stretching out and pressing against my forehead.

"You don't feel hot," he said, pursing his lips. "How do you feel otherwise? Are you nauseous?"

"I feel okay, apart from my head," I sighed. "It's just my head."

He paused for a second, deep in thought.

"When did you last get your eyes tested?" he asked. I hesitated, unsure of the answer. "More than a year? Two?"

"Maybe longer…"

"You should get them checked," he urged, a slight huff in his tone. "You might need glasses."

"I'll book an appointment," I relented, knowing he wouldn't back down until I agreed. "I'm not sure it's my eyes that's the problem… it's probably stress."

He studied my face, his head slowly tilting to the side.

"Has she replied?"

"Late last night," I muttered. "I got up to use the bathroom and checked my phone. It was about 3am."

"And?"

"I could sense the frustration, that's for sure."

This was the weekend Christian and I had planned on visiting my mother in Georgia. We were supposed to fly out last night, but due to Joey's early arrival we decided to postpone the trip until next week. We wanted to be on standby in case the Flynns need us to check in on them, run errands or look after the older kids for a few hours.

I didn't think it would make much difference. It's only an extra seven days. I texted my mother and explained that we wouldn't be coming this week, and her eventual reply was strange to say the least.

**Is there really no way you can come out here? You said you would come, I was getting things ready for you, it hasn't been easy trying to work everything out. It's been hard trying to prepare for this. You have no idea how much pressure has been put on me. I'm trying to do the right thing here.**

I gave Christian a shortened version of the text and watched as his brows twisted together again.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he huffed. "What is there for her to sort out? I've organised everything. Our flights, the hotel."

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I couldn't make any sense of it. I'm not sure if she's just disappointed and lashing out a bit?"

Christian began chewing on the inside of his mouth, his eyes narrowing.

"Do you think this will undo the progress you've made with her?" he wondered.

"I hope not," I sighed. "I really hope it doesn't."

Things were going well between me and my mother. We were messaging regularly, her being far more communicative than she has ever been. My mother is usually terrible at replying to messages, but she has really put in the effort recently.

Our messages were still on the impersonal side, admittedly, mostly small talk and discussions about the trip. But it was something. It was positive. It was civil.

"If she's getting on the defensive about this," I began, "I am concerned she'll revert to her usual ways once we're face-to-face. That she'll be pissy with me from the off. That everything will be my fault, I'll get the blame for every tiny thing that's gone wrong, blah blah blah..."

"Is it beyond the realms of possibility that she is simply disappointed because she was looking forward to seeing you?" he questioned, trying to find something to quell my worries. "From what you've told me about her, it does seem like she's changed."

It was true. It was like talking to a different person sometimes. As if the real Carla – the mother in her – was finally coming out.

"I'm not sure if anyone ever really changes though," I muttered. "Do they even do lobotomies anymore?"

He rolled his eyes at me.

"Are you changing your mind about going out there?"

"No," I shook my head. "I do want to see her, I have to. I need to talk to her. There's so much I need to say, things I need to get off my chest."

"You want to clear the air," he understood, nodding.

"I know I have to do it now or I never will," I said. "I know I'll chicken out and it'll just carry on for years and years… I don't want to go into the next phase of my life with this hanging over me. Speak now or forever hold my peace and all that shit, you know?"

He smirked, the corners of his eyes creasing with his smile.

"I'm pretty sure that gets said at weddings," he quipped. "And that'll be the point where I scowl at everyone during our ceremony. I dare anyone to try and ruin our day."

"We'll tackle them to the floor if they do," I laughed. I slid my palm over the back of his hand, turning his fingers over to link them with mine. "You grab their legs, I'll take their arms. We'll wipe the floor with them."

"Deal," he grinned.

Pushing up onto his hands and knees, he crawled over me and wriggled down under the covers. He lay down beside me, pulling me into his hold for a warm snuggle.

"I don't want you stressing over this," he whispered. "The last thing I want is you burning yourself out with worry, okay? Whatever happens with your mother, I'll be right there with you."

"That does make me feel better," I replied quietly. I shifted and curled into his chest. "I know I'm in control, that it remains my decision to see her."

"It doesn't matter that we'll be on her turf," he assured me. "If you decide you don't want to see her, that you've changed your mind, we won't go. It's as simple as that. We do what you want, not what she wants. You say the word and I'll get you out of there."

"Thank you…" I pushed my face into his chest, breathing in his manly scent. His heart thumped steadily under my ear. "I'm not sure I could even contemplate the idea of seeing her again if you weren't coming with me. I know I can do it if I've got you there."

"You have me, baby," he kissed the top of my head. "Today, tomorrow, forever."

I smiled against him, enjoy the feeling of being cocooned in his hold, safe in his love.

"Are you worried about meeting her?" I asked.

"Your mother? No, I'm not," he replied earnestly. "The only person I have ever been worried about meeting was Ray."

"Really?" I tilted my head back and stared up at him. "You were nervous about meeting him?"

"I was shitting myself," he snorted, nodding.

"Why?"

"Because he's your dad," he said. "And I knew his opinion of me would matter to you. I didn't want to make a bad impression and risk losing you."

"You thought I'd walk away if Ray didn't like you?" I frowned. He nodded again. "Seriously?"

"I was desperate for him to like me," he explained. "I know you value his opinion."

"Not enough to allow it to influence my choice of partner," I said. "I make my own decisions, and I chose you."

He leaned down and pecked his lips to mine, soft and light.

"Even if Ray hated you, it wouldn't have mattered," I added. "And I don't care what my mother thinks of you either. I'm not seeking her approval."

"You just want to show me off, huh? Have me on your arm like some kind of trophy?" he winked. I broke into a wide smile, poking him in the side. "Ah, there's my beautiful girl… stop worrying."

"Because it's all going to be okay?"

"I can't say that," he shook his head. "I can't make you any promises, can't say that your mother will be a pussy cat and it'll be fine. But I can promise that I will be there, holding your hand, ready to fight your corner if I have to. We're stronger together. We always have been."

"I love you," I breathed.

"I know," he smiled. "How could you not love me? I'm fucking amazing."

I huffed as he pulled me tighter into his hold.

"I think all those endorphins have gone to your head," I mumbled into his chest. "I can feel it getting bigger by the second."

"It's not the only thing getting bigger…"

"Yeah, I can feel that too. God, you're such a fiend!"

"Complaining?"

"Never."


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Thank you for being patient during the delay between the last chapter and this one. I'm now back at work full-time and it's taking some getting used to, that's for sure. There will be some delays whilst I'm getting to grips with everything again but I will update every chance I get.**

**In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea xx**

* * *

C-Day was finally here.

In less than ten hours I would be in the same room as my mother, for the first time in almost two years. It was hard to comprehend. It still seemed surreal to me.

Touching down in Savannah, my nerves flipped out of the control, the emotions I had tried to suppress all week oozing out of me. I couldn't sit or stand still. My stomach was doing somersaults. This was it. I was going to face her again. We were going to talk and, hopefully, find a way to put everything behind us.

Christian was trying his best to comfort me, distracting me at every available opportunity. He had been incredible during the flight, despite his distaste at having to fly commercial. Grace and Carrick were using the GEH jet this weekend, heading down to Hawaii for an impromptu mini-break to celebrate their upcoming anniversary. We had already promised them the jet long before we rearranged our trip here to see my mother. Christian wasn't happy having to mingle with other people in the first-class cabin, but he devoted his full attention to me and chose to ignore the annoying passengers we were surrounded by.

He was a man of his word and would never take back a promise.

And he was doing this for me.

I couldn't understand just why I was so nervous. She's my mother. I've spent more of my life with her than without, but there was something inside me that was screaming out. Trying to tell me to turn back and go home.

In any case, I wasn't going to back out now. Not this late in the game. No matter what that voice inside me was saying, I was doing this.

I will never give in to my anxieties again.

We checked into our hotel and our suite did absolutely nothing to help settle my nerves.

The deluxe suite was lavish, the furnishings and décor showing that no-expense had been spared, only the very best had been chosen for the most prestigious room, but it was loud.

Too loud. Too obnoxious. Way too much.

The colour scheme was so bright I felt like I needed to put sunglasses on to save my retinas from disintegrating. Skewing the usual monochromatic or neutral tones that most hotels adopt, the newly opened Cascades was a complete colour explosion. There seemed to be no sense to the choices – fuchsia next to olive green, teal paired with neon yellow. Zebra print beside polka dots.

The place roared WTF.

As I turned around and observed the spectacle I had walked into, I considered whether there had been some kind of mix-up.

"Not what you were expecting, huh?" Christian probed, coming up behind me. He dropped our bags onto the couch and enveloped me in a hug. "It's different, isn't it?"

"You could say that," I nodded, eyes wide. "It's a bit…"

"Eccentric?"

"Very," I sighed.

He chuckled a low laugh.

"I thought we could try something new," he explained, shrugging. "I've always stayed in the same hotel chains. I find one I like and stick to it. It gets boring after a while."

"So you thought fuck it, let's stay in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory?"

"Something like that," he laughed, nodding. His eyes shifted from mine and scanned the sitting room. "I wanted to step outside my comfort zone, be more adventurous."

His admission told me all I needed to know.

I pressed myself into him, resting my ear over his heart.

"I'll concede this is probably a step too far though," he snorted. "I didn't check out the photo gallery before I booked."

"You hate it, don't you?" I giggled. He hummed his reply. "Have you looked inside the bedroom? It's like a peacock was massacred in there."

"I thought it might make a nice change."

"It's a change alright," I agreed. I tilted my head back and smiled up at him. I stroked my palm across his cheek. "You tried and I can only commend you for that. I know it's not easy for you, to do something different."

His expression softened.

"Should I call around and check us into somewhere else?" he asked.

"No," I shook my head after a moment's contemplation. "Let's chalk this up to experience – research more."

"You mean check the room doesn't come with a sensory warning?" he quipped.

"Kinda," I grinned.

He leaned down and pecked his lips to mine.

"On the plus side, this is probably the closest hotel to my mother's house," I said. "We won't have to travel far in the morning."

"How are you feeling?" he checked, his eyes grazing over the entirety of my face.

"On edge," I admitted.

"With what, exactly?"

"Right now, I'm mostly concerned with what I'm going to wear. I need to look good and I'm worried everything I've packed isn't good enough."

He frowned a little.

"You think she'll judge you?"

"I know she will," I nodded firmly. "You seriously have no idea what you're going to come up against tomorrow."

"I can handle it," he replied.

I could sense from the way his words hung deep in the air that he wanted to add 'but can you?' on the end.

"I've changed a lot over the past year," I said. "I want her to see that. It's time she got to know the real me."

It's time she saw me as the woman I have become, not the naïve kid she dropped like a hot potato.

I am her equal. We are both adults. We should act like it.

* * *

It took three outfit changes and Christian practically dragging me out of the hotel room for me to finally accept I was ready.

As ready as I could ever be, that is.

Christian pulled the rental Audi up outside my mother's house, parking at the base of the rectangular drive.

I had never seen the house in person before, but the photographs Christian showed me didn't do it justice. It was far grander than it appeared. The white-washed walls contrasted with the redbrick properties flanking it on either side. The cream door matched the angled windows, which similarly matched the masses of rose bushes lining the front yard. Each was perfectly trimmed, not a single wilted flower in sight.

It wasn't chaotic or slap-dash. Nothing was out of place.

"What are you thinking?" Christian asked. I felt his hand rest on top of my knee.

"That I'd never picture her living somewhere like this," I shook my head. "It's too… I don't know. It's not her."

"Perhaps it's Bob's influence," he suggested. "Shall we do this? Rip off the band-aid?"

I blew out a slow breath, pushing all the air out of my lungs, and nodded my head. I threw open the car door and hopped out, meeting Christian on the drive.

He took my hand in his and held me tight, his pulse beating against my fingers. His heartrate dramatically slower than mine.

Approaching the house, we passed a silver Renault, which I assumed was Bob's car. My mother hates driving. It gives her road rage, being surrounded by idiots who don't know how to signal. It was always an experience getting in the car with her. And by experience, I mean you came away from it a nervous wreck and with a pounding headache.

Christian rapped his knuckles on the door and we stepped back, waiting for it to open. Within thirty seconds, it was yanked back on its hinges, the smell of fresh coffee attacking my senses in an instant.

"Thank god you're here!"

"Oh –"

Bob Adams jumped forward and threw his arms around me, hugging me in a way that could only be described as awkward.

I froze in his hold, still clutching Christian's outstretched hand.

I barely know this man.

I don't think I've ever had a conversation with him, let alone been held by him.

Christian cleared his throat and Bob retreated, shuffling back into the house. He wore a wide smile, his crooked teeth on full show.

Bob was average height, shorter than I seemed to remember, and had a thick head of grey hair. His dark eyes hid behind tinted, rimless glasses, his mouth lurking beneath a heavy moustache. He didn't have either in the wedding pictures I had seen on Facebook, the ones my mother uploaded with the caption 'for everyone see, including those who didn't want to come'.

"How was your flight?" Bob asked, wringing his hands together in front of him. "Good, I hope?"

"Fine, thanks," I shrugged. I glimpsed up at Christian. "Erm, this is Christian. My partner. Christian, this is Bob."

Christian nodded and gave me a soft smile. He understood why I didn't want to out him as my fiancé just yet. I wanted to tell my mother first, not her husband.

"Nice to meet you," Bob said, shooting his hand out to Christian. They shook graciously. "I didn't realise you were bringing a guest. I thought you would come alone."

I didn't reply.

There was never any chance of me coming alone.

I'm not that fucking stupid.

"But it's good you're here. Both of you," he added, nodding. "I just know this will be good for Carla, to see you again."

"Can we come in?" I prompted, looking past him into the narrow hall.

"Yes, yes, of course," he mumbled. He moved aside to give us room to enter. "You go on through to the lounge, take a seat, make yourselves comfortable. I'll go fetch Carla."

He shut the door behind us and power-walked down the hall, disappearing around the back of the stairs.

Christian lowered his mouth to my ear.

"Is he always so… jittery?" he whispered.

"I don't know," I muttered back. "I don't know him. I haven't spent enough time with him to know what he's like."

"You haven't?" he frowned.

"He got with my mom and they moved here not long after," I explained. "A couple months later and they were married."

We headed on through to the lounge, entering through the archway to our right. Neither of us sat down, both of us too busy scanning the room and checking out the all-white interior.

Just like outside, in here was equally too pristine and perfect. The only colour slicing through the room was the darts of sunlight seeping through the blinds.

"She likes photographs," Christian observed, walking alongside the mantlepiece. I peeked over to his side of the room and saw a ton of frames lined up. "Fuck, and I thought Grace loved displaying family photos."

I reached his side and looked at the pictures.

Not one photo had me in it.

No baby pictures.

Nothing from my school years.

Not even the graduation picture Ray sent her.

My stomach clenched, but I tried to relax. I told myself they were somewhere else, not torn up and thrown in the trash like my gut was telling me.

From the hall I heard footsteps and hushed voices.

"Fine, whatever…"

_Oh god._

Hearing her voice after so long -

It sent shivers down my spine, right into my feet, rooting me to the floor.

I twisted my head to the doorway.

Bob emerged first, shielding her until he pulled her forward by the hand.

Our eyes locked together, mine widening as hers narrowed a fraction.

Her dark hair was teased back into a ponytail, not a single hair on her face. She had no makeup on, except for a light dab of her favourite coral lipstick across her mouth. It's the same shade she's worn since before my birth. It's just about the only thing that has stayed a constant in her life.

It's her longest running relationship.

Probably always will be, knowing her.

She looked slimmer than she used to, those Pilates classes she takes clearly doing their job in helping to firm her up. She looks fit and healthy. Her jeans were tight, gliding down her long legs, her strapless blouse clinging to her torso. It was something I would never wear. Too daring for me.

Looking at her, nobody would think she was forty-five. She could easily pass as thirty, maybe younger on a good day.

"Hi, Mom," I sighed, smiling shyly.

I took a small step forward, despite my legs feeling leaden.

Her eyes scaled the length of me, just as I had done to her a second earlier, seeming to take an age to reach my gaze again.

She stared at me, her brows pulling together, creasing the space between with a hard line.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she spat out, folding her arms under her chest.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Thank you so much for your patience and understanding over my busyness with work etc. I didn't mean to leave you on that cliffhanger for quite so long...**

**I have been very slack lately with replying to reviews, but please know that I do read and appreciate every single comment. Your support is never taken for granted. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

"Huh? What…?"

My mouth hung open as I gawped at my mother, trying to make sense of the narrowed glare she was giving me. I slowly shook my head, bewildered by what was happening.

_What the hell is happening?_

"I asked what you're doing here," she repeated, huffing loudly. Her lips pursed for a moment. "You, of all people, should know by now that I don't appreciate people turning up unannounced. Especially _unwelcome_ visitors."

The room started to pulse around me, confusion thumping through my brain.

"I don't understand," I muttered. "Mom, you invited me here."

"I did not!" she snorted.

"What?"

I took a step back and stared at her.

Had she completely forgotten our recent conversations?

"We've been messaging each other," I reminded her, hoping to jog her memory. Had she been in some kind of accident since we last spoke? Was her memory affected? "We've been texting for weeks. You asked me to come here. You said you wanted to talk face-to-face."

She shook her head, adamant.

"Are you seriously telling me you can't remember any of it?"

"I can't remember it because it didn't happen," she replied, her tone clipped and hard. She was pissed off now. "How many times do I need to repeat myself?"

I spun to face Christian, needing his input. I had no idea what to do. He shrugged his shoulders, as clueless as me, his intense gaze fleeting between me and my mother.

"I promise you we haven't spoken in a very long time," she said, reiterating her point.

"But I can prove it," I blurted. I pulled my iPhone from my purse and opened up the thread of messages we had exchanged, turning to phone to show her. "See? All of it's there."

She read the messages, her pupils becoming pinpoint as the skin around her jaw tightened. After a few seconds, she twisted to face Bob. A low growl hummed through her gritted teeth.

Bob was stood in the doorway, his head bowed towards the floor. His cheeks red, but the rest of his face ashen.

It was then that it dawned on me.

_For fuck's sake -_

"You did this?" I gasped, pointing my finger at him. He closed his eyes, refusing to even look at me. "You? This was all you?"

My mother huffed under her breath, cursing her frustration out loud.

Christian grunted, stepping up beside me, his arm brushing against mine. "Answer her," he ordered. The harshness of his voice seemed to jolt Bob into action, forcing him to look up nervously. "Because God help me, I'll have you squealing like a pig if you don't start explaining."

Bob gulped, eyes wide.

"I… I was only doing what I thought was best," he whispered quickly. He held up his palms in surrender. "I didn't mean any harm. I -"

"I can't believe this," I sighed, my whole weight sinking into the carpet beneath my feet. "Oh my god."

"You idiot," Mom groaned. She rolled her eyes. "You are a first-class idiot. I really lucked out with you, huh?"

"I knew you would never reply," he shrieked, seeming to visibly simmer into a mouse of himself. "I can't even mention Ana in front of you, honey, you always shoot me down straight away. I just thought –"

"That you'd impersonate me?" she scowled. "Did you seriously expect this to end well? Dumping this crap on me, after everything she's put me through?"

I bit my tongue, letting that dig slide.

"She reached out!" he said. He jumped to her side, placing his hands on her crossed arms, trying to coax her into relaxing. I knew it wouldn't work. "You said she would make the first move and she did. She messaged you."

"Why did you get the message and not her?" I asked, frowning. "How is it that you've been texting me without her knowing? It's her phone."

"Was," Mom corrected. "It was my phone. I got a new one. Bob has my old one."

My gut twisted.

"You got a new phone? When?"

"After the wedding," she shrugged. She brushed it off so easily, as if it didn't matter.

"You changed your number and didn't bother to tell me?" I asked. I threw my head back and groaned. "Typical. I shouldn't be surprised. This is you all over."

She turned her head from me.

I felt Christian's hand settle on my elbow and I closed my eyes, trying to stave off the anger rushing through me.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Christian asked Bob. "The hurt you'll have caused with this bullshit?"

"I did this to help them!" Bob pleaded. "They need to get over all of this. It's been long enough. They need to start talking."

"You can't force them into a corner!" Christian snapped. "You can't throw them together and expect everything to be rosy. You fucking moron."

"Don't speak to him like that," my mother snarled, snapping her head towards us both. "Don't you dare. This is my home -"

"You want me to get started on you?" he arched a brow. "Because trust me, I have a barrel load of stuff to say to you too."

She looked him up and down, unimpressed.

"I see she's been feeding you lies about me," she hummed.

"Ana isn't a liar," he shot back. "The very fact you think she is one, shows how little you know your own daughter."

"I want you both to leave," she said. "I want you out of my house."

Her words spurned something inside me. Something clicked.

"No," I shook my head. "No, we're not leaving until I've said what I need to say."

She lifted her gaze to mine.

"You're not throwing me out after I've come all this way, not until I've told you exactly what I've been holding back for years," I continued. "If you don't want to talk, that's fine. But you will listen to me. I'll make sure of it."

"What's there to say that hasn't already been said?" she blustered. "You want to rake over the fact you refused to come to my wedding? That you never bothered to make the effort to come see me? That you couldn't be happy for me because you're so incredibly selfish?"

"Me? Selfish?" I snorted. "Do you even know what that word means? Do you need me to find a dictionary?"

"Don't talk down to me," she screeched. "I'm your mother."

"Shame you've never acted like one," I grunted back. "It has always been about you. You've always put yourself first, you never even thought about me."

"That's not true!"

"Come on! You expected me to drop everything to play happy families with husband number four? The latest in probably a long line of guys you'll end up marrying? I was in the middle of my finals, for god's sake. You wanted me to walk away -"

"Here we go again…" she mumbled, shaking her head.

"Unless the world revolves around you, you're not interested," I said. "You think that's the way mothers are supposed to behave? You're supposed to be _selfless_."

"You're not being fair with the truth, Anastasia."

_Oh here we go… bringing out my full name…_

"Did you come to all of my parent teacher days at school?" I asked, tilting my head to the side as I quizzed her. "Did you read my school reports, help me with my homework?"

"I was busy, but –"

"Busy screwing anything with a pulse," I snorted. "Does Bob know about your past? The fact you've never been able to keep your legs shut?"

"Slut shaming your own mother?" she shook her head, but she couldn't hide the embarrassment flooding her cheeks. "Real classy."

"I didn't care how many guys there were, what bothered me is the fact you cheated," I retorted. "The fact you were never safe. That you exposed me to that shit!"

Christian's fingers pressed deep into my arm.

"You're a user," I called out. "You use men and throw them away when you're bored. You make them splash their cash, buy you gifts, pay your rent, then you move on. You find another sucker to con."

"And?" she shrugged again. From over her shoulder, I saw Bob's eyes widen with horror. He had no idea about this side of her. "A fool and his money are soon parted. If they want to spoil me, that's their problem."

"Do you have no morals at all?" I frowned. "Do you have any clue how hard it was growing up, having your mother behave like that? Like some glorified hooker?"

Her jaw clenched.

"You need to stop," she ordered, pointing her finger.

She was warning me off, but I wasn't going to back down. Not now.

"You subjected me to things I should _never_ have had to deal with," I continued. "I should never have walked in on you fucking some random guy in our kitchen. I should never have been around men who were sleezy and disgusting."

"Enough –"

"Do you remember that summer we went on the road trip to Phoenix? Just the two of us?" I asked. "We shared a hotel room. Our beds were practically touching and I had to lay there, pretending to be asleep while you and some guy were going at it…"

I trailed off, the memory sticking in my throat like a thorn.

"I heard what he said," I added. I looked her dead in the eye. "About me joining in? You told him I was your sister…"

"I was single," she said, trying to justify herself. "I –"

"I was sixteen!"

Bob's complexion paled in an instant, his body slumping back into the doorframe.

"Ana –" Christian spoke my name with a voice full of grit, his tension building.

"You know what your problem is?" Mom growled, closing the gap between us. "You're just bitter that I left Ray. You couldn't accept I didn't love him."

"You betrayed him," I shot back. "You broke his heart."

"He was a means to an end," she countered.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I needed someone to take you off my hands," she blurted. "Someone to support us both. He was the first sucker who came along and didn't run away as soon as he found out I had a kid."

"You were that desperate because my father died?" I snorted. "That's the only reason you got with Ray? For the money?"

"He wanted you," she replied, tersely. "He was smitten the moment he met you. I'm not ashamed that I took advantage of that."

"You married quickly because you wanted to trap him, didn't you?" I gathered. She nodded once. "You're pathetic. My father had only been dead for what, a few months before you married Ray?"

"And?"

"Did he mean so little to you?"

"I never wanted to marry Frank in the first place," she said. "I didn't love him. I didn't even like him. He was nothing more than a drunken fling without a condom."

I shook my head.

"You were a mistake," she added, callously. "When I found out I was pregnant, I freaked out. But Frank promised me the world. He said he'd stay with me, he'd make it work. He thought we'd be this happy little family, but then the fool went and died on me. I was stuck."

"And you couldn't even abort me because I had already been born by that point, right?" I gathered. She didn't baulk at my question. "Go on, say it. Say what I've always known. You didn't want me."

"No, I didn't," she admitted. Her voice was quiet and still, yet so very loud in my ears. "I never wanted kids."

After a beat of silence, I laughed.

"Finally," I chuckled. "The truth is out."

"Ana," Christian uttered my name. "We should –"

I held up my hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"No," I refused. "Not yet…"

As I stared my mother in the eye, I began to calm down.

My anger was fading, my resentment passing with every heartbeat.

All of it was slipping away.

"You know, I only messaged you because Ray wanted me to. It was more for his sake than mine."

She tensed at the mention of him.

"I know now that for me, this was just about closure," I said. "I had to tell you."

"Tell me what, that you hate me? Big surprise. I've always been public enemy number one to you."

"I don't hate you," I shook my head. "I feel nothing for you... Actually, no, I pity you. You have had so many opportunities that other people don't get."

Her arms tightened around her chest.

"You had a child," I added. "There are people out there who would kill to have a family of their own, people who would make incredible parents, but you didn't want aby of it. You wanted to check out of the situation and you did."

It was my turn to look her up and down again.

"I have spent so much of my life trying to be the very opposite of you and I needn't have bothered," I laughed. "Because I'm not you. I am a good person. I care about other people's feelings. I put other people first, sometimes to my own detriment."

She opened her mouth to protest but I silenced her with a flick of my hand.

"My life is great," I told her. "I have an amazing job that I love, I have friends who are there for me come rain or shine, and I've met the love of my life –"

I turned to Christian and pulled him forward, closer into my side.

"This is my fiancé, Christian," I said. "We're getting married at the end of the year. I had thought about inviting you. I think you can guess where I stand on that point now, though."

There was no surprise in her expression, no infliction or care.

"I already know about you two," she said quietly. "I saw it online, on some trashy website. Pictures of you all over each other. Very tacky."

"Jealous?" I shot back, arching a brow at her. "Because that's all you want, isn't it? Attention. You're nothing more than an attention-seeking bitch."

I glimpsed up at Christian and gave him a tight nod.

"Let's go," I whispered. "I'm done here."

Before another word could be said, we weaved past my mother and Bob and made a beeline for the exit. We tumbled out onto the drive, the fresh air a welcome relief.

My mother's footsteps followed us, her shrill voice making another appearance. A last-ditch attempt at insults.

"It'll be the biggest mistake of your life, you know," she shouted, loud and proud for all the neighbours to hear. "You'll live to regret it."

"Regret what, exactly?" I huffed, throwing my arms out as I looked back at her one last time. "Marrying the man I love or cutting you out of my life once and for all?"

"You'll be back," she taunted.

"I won't."

"You came back this time, didn't you?"

"Only to tell you that you're a disgrace," I said. "And that I hope our paths never cross again."

I climbed into the car, Christian helping me in and pushing the door shut behind me. He rushed around the other side, eager make a quick getaway.

He switched on the engine and there was a frantic rap on my window.

She wasn't giving up just yet.

I unwound the window and spoke first, refusing to accept another barrage of abuse.

"I'm done," I repeated. "With you, with this shit, with trying to fix something that can never be fixed."

"You can't erase the fact I'm your mother."

"You gave birth to me, you're not my mother," I fired back, meeting her eye. "A mother is someone who protects their child, who loves them irrevocably. Someone who will walk to the ends of the earth for their child. You're none of those things. You're just a selfish piece of shit who doesn't deserve me."

She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut in over her again.

"I don't need you, I've never needed you," I said. "I have everything I need. Everything I could possibly want."

She reached inside and grabbed my arm.

I snatched my arm away.

"Touch me again and I'll break your fingers," I seethed. "Leave me the fuck alone. Carla."

She slunk back a step and then she was gone, Christian jolting the car forward at speed, putting solid distance between me and her.

I focused on the road ahead.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Thanks so much for the great messages and feedback I had on the last chapter. Boy, that was a good one to write! I love a bit of feisty Ana.**

**I hope you enjoy this one too.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

**Reds77** – Thank you, my lovely! Bob really screwed up, but in a way it's a good thing he did what he did. Ana needed closure. Our girl will be much happier now the wicked witch is out of her life, once and for all. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you! I'm still managing to write here and there, work at the moment is very busy and I'm putting in a lot of hours, but I do have some time off soon so I plan on writing a lot then! Much Love x

**Mel** – Thank you! I think Christian would have a fit if that happened any time soon. Ana too, for that matter… Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! It's good to be back. I do miss you guys! Much Love x

**Tammi** – Thank you! I'm incredibly proud of Ana too. She's come a long way since Maitrise. Ana will definitely come away from this feeling stronger. She's a tough cookie. Hope you like this chapter. Much Love x

**Katie** – Thank you! I'm really good, just very busy at the moment. I work irregular shift patterns, any time between 6am and 8pm, and each week varies in terms of what days I work, so it's hard to have a routine of any kind. I try to write when I can, and I plan on writing/editing a lot of chapters when I have a week off work soon. Thanks for the support! Much Love x

* * *

Back in the safety of the hotel room, I allowed a grumble to escape from deep within my chest, a groan I had suppressed since leaving my mother's house finally breaking free.

I shuffled, dragging my feet, all the way over to the couch. My body was tired, my mind numb. I kicked off my shoes and shed my jacket, leaving both on the floor in a crumpled mess.

I stared at the blank television screen mounted on the wall opposite.

"Here –"

Christian appeared beside me, holding two tumblers of caramel coloured liquor. Whiskey, no doubt. He offered one of them to me.

"Drink," he urged.

I accepted the tumbler and raised it to my mouth, but I didn't take a sip. The fiery fumes had my nose scrunching. It smelled lethal and nothing like his preferred bourbon.

"I can't believe what just happened," Christian moaned, dropping onto the couch with a huff. He hooked one leg over the other, draping his arm along the back of the couch as he turned to face me. "What the fuck? I feel like we've stepped out of the fucking Twilight zone."

"Tell me about it," I mumbled. I swirled the glass in my hand before lowering it to rest on my lap. "Not the welcome home party I was hoping for."

"That man is an absolute moron," he continued, his voice growing more frustrated by the second. "What was he thinking? That it would be all sunshine and roses? She didn't even know you were coming, for fuck's sake."

"I was there," I reminded him.

"I don't understand why he did that? How the fuck did he expect her to react? She won't let him talk about you, by all accounts."

I tried not to focus on that point.

It was bad enough she had removed all my photographs from sight, but knowing she couldn't even stand to hear my name being mentioned was another thing entirely.

"Did he really think she would run at you with open arms?" he frowned.

"More chance of her running at me with a rusty axe," I quipped. I twisted my head towards him. His brows were low around his eyes, hard lines creasing between them. "I don't think he meant any harm."

"Even so," he huffed again.

"Well, now you've met her, what do you think?" I wondered. "Do you see why I don't have anything to do with her?"

He slowly nodded his head.

He brushed the back of his fingers up and down my arm. A shiver broke out over my skin.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"For what?" I shrugged. "What do you have to apologise for?"

"I should have gotten you out of there sooner," he said. His chin dipped. "I just stood there, allowing her speak to you like that. I didn't say anything. I didn't _do_ anything."

"You were probably in shock," I brushed it off. "I've told you what she's like, but unless you witness it for yourself… Anyway, it wasn't your place to get involved. She's my mother."

"But –"

"I had to hear it," I interrupted his protestations. "I needed to know the truth. Even though I've always known it, deep down, I still had to hear it for real."

"You knew she didn't want you?" he asked, his eyes full of sorrow. I nodded. "Ana…"

"She never acted like a mom," I explained. "She never showed any interest in me. I put two and two together. I didn't know she had considered abortion. I thought the regret came after I was born."

His gaze dropped from mine.

I shook my head, recalling what he had told me about his own birth mother. She had overdosed while pregnant, perhaps as an attempt to abort the pregnancy.

Our paths are intertwined on so many levels…

"More importantly," I spoke, cutting through the tense air building. "I had to tell her how I feel. I've been bottling up my thoughts for years. It was time to unleash the beast!"

I was hoping to provoke a laugh from him, but his face remained stony.

"How are you remaining calm over this?" he asked quietly. "Shouldn't you be screaming, shouting, throwing things?"

I tilted my head to the side.

"You're worried about how I'm reacting?"

He nodded.

"Why?"

"I wouldn't react this way if I had come face-to-face with my birth mother and it had gone badly," he explained. "I wouldn't be sat here, calm and collected."

"You have a different history to me," I said, shrugging. "And we're different people."

He hesitated, his eyes twitching in the corners.

"Are you holding back?" he checked. "Because you can't do that. It'll fester and then –"

"I'm not," I assured him. "I'm okay. Really."

"Promise?"

"Promise," I smiled.

I knew the smile didn't quite reach my eyes, but I was hoping he wouldn't notice.

I shuffled closer to him and dropped my head onto his chest, settling into his side for a much-needed cuddle.

"I know who my mother is – _what she is _– so it wasn't a surprise to see her act like that. I've had twenty-plus years of it."

"You're not surprised at all?"

"No," I shook my head. "I was expecting something along those lines, even before we knew it was Bob sending the texts. It felt too good to be true from the beginning."

"Ana?"

"Hm?"

"You will talk to me if you need to?"

"I will," I nodded. I exhaled a sigh. "I was angry before, when I was standing in front of her, having to hear that shit, but now… it's gone."

"Gone?"

"I hate that saying of feeling like a weight has been lifted because it never happens, not really, but it kinda has for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I feel… free," I said. "We didn't talk for a long time but it was always there. The knowledge that the door was still ajar, not fully closed. But now it is."

"You feel like you can move on from it now?" he guessed.

"Life is too short to waste it on people like her, even if she did give birth to me," I nodded. "I'm not mad, I'm not upset, I'm just… well, truthfully, I am pissed off that I was duped. I thought I was cleverer than that, especially after everything we've been through. I thought I knew the tell-tale signs of a scammer."

He grunted and wrapped his arm around me, holding me tight against him.

"I could throttle that fucking idiot," he blustered. "I did all the checks! Nothing pointed to anyone other than Carla sending those texts."

"At least it wasn't just me that was fooled then," I snorted. "I honestly don't think he was expecting that."

"It was reckless to pull a stunt like that." He sipped his whiskey. He grimaced slightly as the taste settled on his tongue. "Does he even know who his wife is?"

"He doesn't know about her past, that's for sure," I said. "The look on his face told me that. She must have hidden a lot of from him."

"How long were they together before they became serious?"

"About four months, give or take," I guessed. "They planned the wedding in a matter of weeks. She wanted to sink her claws into him fast."

"She must be a damn good actress then."

"She's a born liar, it comes natural to her," I confirmed. "The problem is, she always slips up. That's what happened with her last husband. The marriage was on the rocks, so she told him she was pregnant."

"And she wasn't?"

"She had a sterilisation when I was five," I revealed. "When Stephen found out, he flipped. He kicked her out and she had to move back in with me and Ray for a few weeks, until she found somewhere else to live."

"What's wrong with her?" he frowned.

"That's a can of worms I'm not prepared to open," I shook my head. "If Bob has any sense, he'll leave her. He seems like a good man. He deserves better."

"You deserve better," he mumbled under his breath, his jaw clenching a beat after.

I pushed my untouched glass onto the coffee table and curled tighter into Christian's side, tucking my feet under myself. I felt the tension building in his chest with each breath.

"I need to know more," he said, his voice gruff and pained.

"About what?"

"The men," he croaked, as if the words had to fight their way out of his mouth. "I have images running through my head that are freaking me out."

"Nothing happened to me," I whispered. I kept my head pressed to his chest, taking comfort from hearing his heart beneath my ear. "None of them touched me. Most of them ignored my very existence."

"But some of them made passed at you?"

"Some," I nodded. He flinched. "There was the guy in the hotel room… and a plumber who had fixed our toilet. They were going at it on the kitchen table. He came to the house a couple of times. One time he cornered me, stopped me going downstairs. He said I looked just like her…"

"What else did he say?"

I closed my eyes.

"He wondered if I was as good a fuck as her," I said, repeating the disgusting words that man had uttered. "I was fifteen. I told him that and he backed off. He thought I was older."

"Where was she?"

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I want to think she would have stopped them from actually doing anything to me, but I can't be sure. I don't know if she would have protected me."

"For fuck's sake…"

His hands came around me, splaying against my back and arm. He pulled me onto his lap, urging me to straddle him. I buried my face into his shoulder.

"Does anyone else know about this?" he asked. I shook my head. "You haven't told anyone? Not even Kate?"

"Kate knows she's a bitch, but she doesn't know the details," I explained. "What she knows is stuff she saw first-hand… You're the only person who knows."

He didn't say anything for a moment. I wondered if he was going to ask why I hadn't told him sooner, but a part of me knew he wouldn't have expected me to reveal a secret like this on a whim. He told me about Elena when he was ready, not because I was pressuring him.

"Ray knows she cheated on him, right?" he checked.

"Yes. He caught her in the act. That was the final straw for him."

"But he doesn't know she had to witness it?"

I shook my head again.

"Are you going to tell him now?"

I raised my head and caught his eye.

"I think you should," he whispered. He stroked his hand down the length of my back. "He should know why you and your mother can't patch things up. He'll understand, instead of pushing you into making it work."

"But –"

"He wouldn't fight her corner if he knew what she had done to you," he added. "Ray worships you, baby. You should consider telling him."

I didn't want to get into an argument with him over this. Mostly because I knew he was right.

I should tell Ray. He only knows part of the story, I have kept him in the dark for years, it's time he saw the entire picture for himself.

"Ana?"

"What?"

"I think I understand you more now," Christian said. I looked him in the eyes, holding his steadfast gaze. "I get why you waited to lose your virginity – why you waited for someone you felt you could trust."

"I wanted more than a cheap hook-up with someone who didn't matter," I nodded. "From the moment I first saw you, I was attracted to you… but I saw something else in you. I saw a man who could protect me."

"I saw that in you too," he smiled. "I knew I could be myself with you. I knew could be vulnerable with you and not get hurt."

"Always," I nodded. I dipped forward and pressed my forehead to his. "For what it's worth, I'm glad I waited until I met you. Our first time together was pretty spectacular."

"It was," he hummed his agreement. "Although, each time we make love it's incredible. Every time feels like the first. Like I'm getting to explore your body all over again."

His mouth found its way to mine, his lips kissing me in a sweet, unrushed style that sent shivers down my spine.

"Thank you for being right there with me," I said. "I needed you there. I couldn't face her on my own."

"You never have to deal with her again," he promised. "As long as there is breath in my body, that woman will never come near you. We'll take out restraining orders on her."

"I don't think I'll be hearing from her any time soon."

"I'm not taking any risks," he grunted. "It's her loss. She is going to miss out on so much because she's a fucking evil bitch… She won't see her beautiful, intelligent, strong daughter get married… or start a family… or become a world-renowned editor for best-selling authors."

"That last point is a long shot," I laughed. I shook my head against his. "I get your point though."

"You were right," he said. "You don't need her. You are surrounded by love. That's something she will never have."

"Christian…"

"And when the time comes, you will make a fantastic mother," he continued. "I know you will be amazing. There's no one else I would ever consider having a child with. No one will love them more than you."

Tears built in my eyes, trickling slowly down each of my cheeks in a silent, cathartic stream.

Christian held me, not saying a word until the last of my tears had been shed.

"I'm taking you home," he announced.

"With you, I am home," I mumbled.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hello Lovelies,**

**It's been a while, huh? How are you?**

**I hope you're all doing well and, as always, I'm sending you my love and well wishes to you all. **

**I haven't been writing or editing for a few weeks because I've been unwell - nothing related to the virus, so please don't worry about that! I've just been a bit down and taking some time to get better and more myself. Still getting there but feeling much better than I was. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it won't disappoint considering the delay. I do love seeing Ana with Ray. Their interactions make me happy. :)**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea xx**

* * *

I had put off talking to Ray the moment we returned from Georgia, unwilling to rake over everything there and then. But Christian was right. He usually was, much to my amazement and occasional dismay. Ray deserved to know the truth, not some half-assed story that made no sense, and the sooner the better.

I gave myself a day to plan how I would approach the conversation, eventually deciding to head over to his house on Monday evening after work.

The last thing I wanted was to hurt my father or upset him. I knew I had to tread carefully. Regardless of what Carla had done, he would always respect her as my mother. I wasn't going to stoop to her level and be petty and rude for the sake of it.

Frankly, she wasn't worth the energy it would take to insult her.

Ray and I sat across from each other at his dining table, in the small area offset from his kitchen. There was an ice-cold beer in front of him, a steaming cup of tea between my palms.

He knew there was something up from the second I arrived. He could sense it, and it had put him on edge.

I spoke at length, unleashing every detail about my recent, toxic exchange with Carla and her appalling past behaviour. I didn't hold anything back. I didn't sugar-coat anything, but I didn't lay it on thick either. I said what I had to and that was it.

Ray let me talk without interruption, but his expressions gave away what he was thinking and feeling.

Anger, confusion, disgust… they were all present in his taut features.

"I just can't believe this," he huffed, shaking his head. He pushed a hand through his thinning sandy-grey hair, almost tugging on the ends. "She said those horrible things to you? For real?"

"Dad, I'm not lying."

"No, honey," he blurted. "I'm not trying to say you are, but I… damn, I can't wrap my head around this. She said she wanted to _abort_ you?"

I nodded once.

"Jeez," he grunted, bowing his head. "For god's sake…"

"Did she ever say anything to you? About me? About not wanting me?" I asked.

"Never," he shook his head, his eyes framed with frustration. "I saw she was distant from you, of course I did, but I thought maybe it was depression. She went through a lot when you were born, when your father died. I figured it affected the way she bonded with you, that's all."

"It was resentment," I sighed. "She was stuck with me."

"Annie –"

"I've always known she didn't want me," I continued. "I knew she hated being a mother. I didn't know she actually hated me, though. That's a recent discovery."

"She's your mom," he gulped. "She shouldn't hate you. She has no reason to hate you."

He raised his gaze and looked me in the eyes. My chest tightened as I caught sight of the tears flooding his vision, threatening to spill down his cheeks any second.

"Dad… Please, don't cry."

He blinked hard, trying to keep them at bay. He wasn't successful.

"I'm so sorry," he sniffed. "I didn't think it would end up like this. If I thought things would have turned this sour, I never would have suggested you contact her… I…"

"I only did it because of you," I admitted.

I didn't say this to make him feel bad, but to reveal why I had bothered in the first place.

"I did it because you wanted me to. It meant something to you," I added. "I contacted her because I love you and I'd do anything for you."

"But you walked into a trap," he growled under his breath. He was angry with himself. "Because I –"

"The fact she didn't know I was coming is on Bob," I dismissed his comment. "He kept it from her. That's on him, not you."

"I get why he did it," he sighed. "It's the same reason I wanted you to talk to her."

"You both want this big happy family," I nodded. "But it will never happen. No one can force her into loving me… and I'm past the point of wanting or even needing her love."

He pursed his lips and then proceeded to sink his teeth into his lower lip. He was trying to quell his emotion.

"I should have told you sooner," I said. "Told you why I was so reluctant to speak to her again. You had a right to know the truth."

"It was your truth," he muttered. "Your story to tell."

"You were misled though," I shook my head. "I let you think it was only a minor disagreement that happened when I was a teen, not this huge issue that had been brewing since before I was even born!"

He was quiet for a moment, sliding his fingers up and down his beer bottle.

"Did she ever mistreat you in other ways?" he asked, his voice low and terse.

"Physically?" I checked.

He nodded.

"No," I confirmed. His shoulders sagged forward. "It was all emotional. She would ignore me, snap at me if she was annoyed at me being there, but she never touched me. I was lucky in that way."

"_Lucky_," he snorted, grimacing. "How the hell is that lucky? What you went through –"

"Christian was physically abused as a kid," I reminded him. "He was tortured for years. I've seen what that has done to him. I am lucky. What I went through is nothing compared to his past."

"You can't compare the two. You can't reduce what you've been through, not because someone apparently had it worse."

"It helps me process things," I shrugged. "I need to think in this way, so please let me. I'm not diminishing my suffering. Rhian would kick my ass if I was."

He managed a small smile at that.

Rhian had pestered me for so long about this issue. I knew what I was doing. I knew this was okay for me to do. That it was healthy for me.

"Dad, I know you only put up with her crap because of me," I said. "And for that, I want to say thank you."

A few more tears made an appearance, a constant stream from his left eye.

"I know you only stayed with her because of me. You could have walked away, but you didn't."

"I was scared she would stop me seeing you," he nodded. "I couldn't handle that."

"You could have adopted me. Why didn't you?"

"She wouldn't let me," he shrugged. My jaw dropped. "When you were three, I asked her if we could make it official but she said no."

"What?" I frowned. "Are you kidding me? She did that!?"

"It damn near killed me," he grumbled. "She point-blank refused. Wouldn't even entertain the idea. She said it was enough that you called me 'dad' and that you had my surname."

"Oh my god! Just when you think she can't stoop any lower!"

"She didn't want to have a different last name to you, that's the only reason she filed the paperwork to have your name changed," he explained. "In case it caused trouble when travelling or something. I was happy enough at the time, I didn't question it, but then I wanted more."

"Did you want a kid of your own?" I wondered.

"I have a kid of my own," he protested. "You've always been mine, Annie. I've never thought of you as anything other than mine."

"You know what I mean," I whispered. "You said you wanted more…"

"We had conversations," he nodded, sighing. "But she didn't want another child. She was adamant. She said she suffered too much during labour with you - she said it went on too long and things got scary at one point. It traumatised her. She freaked out any time I mentioned her coming off birth control."

"Sounds like the added responsibility freaked her out," I rolled my eyes. "Probably didn't want to go another nine months without drinking or sleeping around."

"Possibly," he muttered in agreement. "I didn't mind that we didn't have a child together. I wanted to give you a sibling, that's all. I hated being an only child as a kid. If I had a choice, you'd have had a brother or sister."

He reached across the table and wrapped his hand around mine.

"I just wish you had told me this sooner," he said. "I would have gotten you away from her. I've had taken you and run. Run for the damn hills."

"And you would have been arrested," I shook my head. "You know she would never have let you take me, despite the fact she didn't want me."

"She wanted to control all of us," he nodded. "And I let her. Like the idiot I am."

"Oh, Daddy…"

"What she put you through… the things she did in front of you…" he scowled.

I had told him about the men, the hook-ups and the propositions. The perverts who took pleasure in passing comments about my teenage body.

That had really pissed him off. It filled him with fire.

"You could have told me," he said. "You could have. I would have listened. I would have believed you."

"I know," I choked. "I know, but I felt I couldn't…"

"I would have shot those bastards," he grunted. "Heck, I'd kill Christian in cold blood if he hurts you, and you know how much I love that boy. I wouldn't think twice about it."

"I know you wouldn't ," I nodded.

_Christian know that too_, I thought to myself.

That's why he treads carefully where Ray is concerned. He knows that he can't come between a daddy and his daughter. That's one line that should never be crossed.

"No one hurts my baby girl," he cried. "I could wring Carla's neck right about now."

"Dad…"

"I saw the best in her when no one else did," he rambled on, shaking his head hard from side to side. "I took her in, I loved her, I respected her and gave her everything she could have wanted. I always put her first. I turned a blind eye to her cheating and –"

He cut himself off abruptly, his tears coming thick and fast and stalling his breaths.

"I've been such a fool," he sniffed, wiping a hand across his face.

I shoved my chair back and rushed around the table.

I stood behind him, throwing my arms tightly around his shoulders, and buried my head into his neck.

"You are not a fool," I told him. I kissed his cheek repeatedly. "Dad, you are an honest, loving man. You see the best in people, you always have."

He reached up and cup the back of my head, holding me to him.

"Carla doesn't deserve either of us," I said. "We're better off without her. So much better without her nastiness and bullshit."

"I don't miss her," he whispered. "I don't miss the arguing or the cheating."

"You miss having company though?"

He nodded, almost cringing at this admission.

I pulled my head away from his and turned his chin towards to me.

"We need to get you back out there," I said, cupping his stubbly cheek. "There's a woman out there who is dying to meet you. Someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved."

"I think I'm too old for all that," he shook his head.

"You're never too old," I pouted. "Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone at the wedding?"

He rolled his eyes, but he smiled nonetheless.

"Don't think what she did to either of us is a reflection on who we are," I urged him. "It's about her, not us."

He smile grew.

"Therapy suits you," he hummed. "You're a stronger woman, far stronger than you've ever been."

"What can I say, Rhian is a miracle worker," I grinned.

"How is she and the baby?"

"They're both doing great," I nodded. "I think Christian and I will go see them again soon. I can't wait for more cuddles with little Joey. He's a gorgeous boy."

"I don't think any baby will be as gorgeous as you were," he reminisced. "You were something else."

I blushed.

I had heard this before, but I enjoyed the way his eyes lit up whenever he was retold this particular story.

"First time I laid eyes on you, you looked up at me with those big blue eyes. Two giant lakes of clear water," he uttered softly. "You were small, wearing this cute white and yellow romper. You were babbling away to yourself, swinging in this little chair thing Carla had got you, but you were staring straight at me. You didn't care about the bunny in your hand. You were focused on me. That moment… that was when I became a father."

In contrast to Carla's house, Ray's home has always been full of pictures of me. His mantle is crowded with baby pictures and embarrassing photos of me throughout the years. From my position, I could see a new addition to the wall opposite – a picture of me and him at my engagement party.

"I'm so proud of you, Annie."

"I'm proud of you too," I said. I kissed his cheek. "Now stop these tears, okay? Because no one deserves them. Least of all your ex-wife."

"You've stopped referring to her as your mom," he noted.

"She might be my mother, but she will never be my mom," I shook my head. "And I'm okay with that. Because I have the best daddy in the world."

He smiled up at me and, right on cue, the sound of the doorbell rippled through the house.

"He does know he can just walk straight in, doesn't he?" Ray asked, a slight furrow in his brow. "He doesn't have to knock or ring the bell every time."

"He knows," I smirked. "But he's trying to be a gentleman. He's still trying to impress you."

"I already gave him my blessing," he shrugged, lifting from the table.

"You could make his life miserable," I retorted. "A lifetime of cold shoulders and death stares…"

Ray chuckled under his breath and left to answer the door. A second passed before I heard Christian voice filter through to my ears.

"Hey –" he hummed, appearing behind me as I stood before the refrigerator, about to grab some more drinks. "I love this perfume on you. You smell good enough to eat…"

I sunk backwards into his hold, resting my head against his chest. I turned my chin to the side and glanced up at him.

He kissed me on the lips. Short and sweet, just a peck in front of my father.

"Missed you," Christian whispered.

"Missed you too," I smiled.

"Good day?"

"So-so," I replied. "You?"

"Better now I'm back with you," he sighed. He had stayed over at the office to wrap up some calls with associates across Asia. He hadn't been looking forward to the conversations, knowing I was across the city having a heart-to-heart with my dad. He wanted to support me, but I had to do this on my own. "So? Have you told him?"

"I have," I nodded.

"And? How is he?"

"Emotional," I revealed. "He's angry and upset."

"It'll take a while for him to come to terms with it," he reminded me.

Grace and Carrick were still trying to process what he had told them about Elena. They still have questions. They still have things they don't understand. I don't know if they will ever fully understand what he went through, but they are trying. They are supporting him. They are coming to terms with the betrayal they, too, suffered.

Ray will struggle to accept that the woman he married and loved was a manipulative, lying, selfish bitch. He saw only one side of her – yes, she was rude and hard with him too, but he never saw the true depths of her cruelty. Because he didn't see it, it makes everything I've told him more shocking.

"But he'll be okay," Christian promised. "He's a Steele, after all."

"Made of strong stuff, huh?" I snorted.

I peeked into the fridge and instantly grabbed two more beers, passing one to him. By the time I turned around, Ray was already propped against a nearby counter.

"Thanks, baby girl," he smiled as I offered him the second bottle. He lifted his focus to Christian. "Busy day?"

"Very," Christian nodded. "Difficult at times, but that's business for you."

"Gotta keep earning those greens," Ray mused. "Especially if you're going to look after my Annie good and proper."

"I promised you I would," Christian smiled. He raised his bottle in salute.

"So, are you two staying for dinner or are you running off and leaving your old man on his lonesome?"

"If you'll have us," I nodded eagerly. "But only if you'll make your famous three cheese, Steele spectacular?"

"Three cheese what?" Christian frowned. "Do I even want to know what that is?"

"It will clog your arteries and give you indigestion," I grinned. "But it will taste incredible. It's Dad's signature dish."

Ray shrugged, but his cheeks pinked up with a blush.

"What my girl wants, my girl gets," he sighed, setting his bottle down and rolling up his sleeves. "I better get cracking."

I clapped my hands in excitement.

"Can I give you a hand?" Christian asked, glancing around the kitchen. "I'm useless and I don't know anything about cooking, but I can follow instructions and wash up."

"You can't cook?" Ray questioned.

"No," he shook his head. "Well, I can do the basics. Toast, scrambled eggs, microwave rice… but that's about it."

"He's terrible in the kitchen," I piped up. Ray's brows shot up. "He could burn water, he's that bad."

"Seriously?"

"Truly awful," I nodded. "But he's a keen learner."

"I am," Christian hummed. "And a part of me would like to learn."

"If you're gonna marry my Annie, you'll need to know how to whip up at least a handful of proper meals," Ray said. He turned around and grabbed two aprons from inside the long cabinet behind him. He tossed one to Christian. "Can't have you relying on Mrs Jones forever, and I won't let my daughter live off takeout."

"No, sir," Christian smiled, dimples pinching his cheeks. He looked to me and gestured to the door. "Go put your feet up. This could take a while."

"Try not to set fire to anything," I teased.

He stuck out his tongue at me and I winked, dragging myself from the room.

I hung around in the hall way, out of view, listening to them talk. They started off discussing the weather, then last night's game, light conversation to pass the time between clattering pots and pans.

"Are you okay?" Christian asked my father.

Ray didn't reply.

"I'm here if you want to talk," Christian added.

"Thanks," Ray grunted back. "Hey… will you promise me one thing?"

"Sure."

"Try not to ruin my good pans, huh?" he huffed. "These babies cost me a fortune."

"I'll try…"

_My boys will be fine_, I thought to myself. _I can rest easy._


	17. Chapter 17

**Hello Lovelies,**

**Thank you for the support on the last chapter - and my AN. Sending big loves to all of you!**

**Hope you like this chapter. Fancy joining our favourites on their bachelor/bachelorette parties? ;)**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea xx**

* * *

**Tammi** – Thank you! I think Ana handled it well, and so did Ray – in the end! He'll move on. I have faith :) I hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

**Reds77** – Thank you! I feel for him too! Poor guy, I just want to grab him and give him a cuddle. I hope you enjoy this update! Much Love x

**Paula White** – Thank you! Glad you liked it. :) Hope you like this one too! Much Love x

**SuzB** – Thank you, my lovely! I hope Ray will meet someone. I have a feeling he will! Hope you like this chapter! Much Love x

* * *

"You know, I'm starting to feel like I live on a bloody plane lately," I sighed as I stepped out of the cool cabin, entering the dry heat that was baking the runaway. I could see the tarmac boiling. I slugged down the steps, sweating immediately. "Jesus… why is it so hot?"

"Heatwave," Christian smirked, climbing down after me. "It's going to last all weekend. High up in the 90s."

"Someone needs to tell Nevada that it's November," I shook my head. "Seriously? And there are idiots in the world who refuse to believe climate change is a real thing?"

I turned to face the jet and watched as Elliot jumped from the plane, landing on the tarmac with an enormous grin on his face. He jumped on the spot, fist-pumping the air.

"Vegas, baby!" he bellowed. "God, it feels good to be back."

It was the first weekend in November, which had been designated as mine and Christian's bachelorette/bachelor parties as soon as Kate took over as our wedding planner. Three whole days of drinking, relaxing and revelling in our last few weeks of unmarried life. She and Elliot had worked together to pull everything off, after choosing Las Vegas as our destination for the shenanigans.

Apparently, it was the only option. Nothing else would do. It was Vegas or nothing at all.

I was leaning towards the latter…

I wondered if Elliot had more clout in this decision. Kate knows I'm not really the drinking, gambling kind of person. I would have been happy with a girls' night at home, in our PJs and watching cheesy rom-coms.

"Come on, Ana!" Elliot cheered. He grabbed me by the arms and began jigging me up and down on the spot. "Show some enthusiasm. You're in the glorious Sin City!"

"I'm just tired," I grunted. "I promise I'll wake up properly once I've showered and changed."

He pouted at my reply but let it drop, spinning around to help with our bags. Mia and Kate had already made their way over to the waiting limo. I heard the sound of champagne bottles popping from somewhere inside, their giggles quickly following the bang.

"Don't worry," Christian whispered in my ear. "There will be absolutely no sinning this weekend. I'll make sure he's on his best behaviour."

He tugged me into his side and pecked a light kiss to my temple.

"Are you okay?" he checked.

"I didn't sleep too good last night," I admitted. He gave me a look that said he already knew this. "I couldn't settle."

"Why?"

"Nerves, I guess," I shrugged. "I don't know what they have planned for us. Or, rather, what Elliot has in mind for you."

He slowly shook his head.

"I've already warned him," he said. "No strippers, no pranks, no silly games. I'm here to spend time with my best man, and keep an eye on my girl."

"And to enjoy yourself," I prompted.

"Oh, of course," he grinned. "Stop stressing. Kate and Mia promised you'll have fun. Trust them."

I tried to force myself to relax.

I was looking forward to exploring Vegas. I haven't been here before and I do want to peek into what the famous city has to offer.

I knew in my heart that Kate wouldn't set me up for embarrassment. But a seed of doubt lingered.

I don't want the typical bachelorette party. I don't want a stripper dressed as a cop or a fireman, thrusting his groin in my face. I don't want to sip from phallic shaped straws. For me, it's not about having one last blow-out before settling down. It's about catching up with my maid-of-honour and bridesmaid, who I feel like I haven't spent nearly enough time with recently.

Well, I have been busy combating my deranged, egotistical nightmare of a mother. I guess that does preoccupy the mind somewhat…

"Where are we staying?" Christian asked as we ventured over to the limo. I slid in first, taking the spot on the far right of the back bench.

"The Bellagio," Kate revealed, sat adjacent to me. She clapped her hands together, grinning wide. "We are basically taking over the entire floor. The hotel has promised us complete privacy. We can dine on our own each night, we can have free rein of the spa… heck, they'll even set aside part of the casino just for us. How crazy is that?"

Christian sat down next to me. He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips.

"How soon into the phone call did you mention my name?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"About three minutes," Kate admitted. She shrugged her shoulders. "What? Would you rather we were slumming it over at the MGM?"

"Fuck no," he scowled. "I'm never staying there again."

"How many times have you come here?" I asked.

"A handful," he guessed, unsure of the exact number. He draped his arm around my shoulders, his hand smoothing down my bare arm. "Mostly for business meetings. Clients love coming here, for some reason."

"You don't see the appeal?"

"It's okay," he dismissed with a sigh. "Although… I think I'll enjoy it more having you here with me."

He brought his mouth to mine, kissing me with a burning passion that always sends shivers up and down my body. His tongue teased against mine, a soft groan slipping into my mouth.

"Ew," Mia huffed from further down the limo.

"They might as well make the most of each other now," Kate warned. "As soon as we've checked in, that's it until bedtime."

"I don't think they'll even make it to bedtime at this rate…" Elliot whistled.

I giggled as Christian flipped him the bird, refusing to relinquish on our kiss.

* * *

Christian's palm met my cheek, lightly pulling me from sleep.

"I didn't want to wake you," he muttered. I cranked open my eyes and scanned the darkened room, finding him sat behind me. He dipped forward and kissed my forehead. "But the others are downstairs, waiting for us."

I groaned and rolled onto my back, stretching my arms above my head.

"How long have I been asleep?"

"About forty-five minutes," he replied. I was shocked. I didn't even remember laying down, let alone falling asleep. "You clearly needed a nap."

I blinked slowly.

My restless night had caught up with me, downing me the second I had sat down on the pristine king-sized bed. Admittedly, the pillows were insanely plump and the velvet throw invited one to curl up under it. I would have been rude not to.

Kate and Elliot had arranged for me and Christian to stay in the presidential suite, the open room plan framed with wall-to-wall mile-high windows that promised a perfect view day or night. The suite was distastefully decorated, a mix of soft neutral colours and gold accents. The bedroom was the epitome of romance: a four-poster bed with satin drapes, an ice-bucket on the bedside counter, a tray of chocolate coated strawberries beside it.

The grey chaise longue in the corner looked particularly appetizing. Christian had uttered his desires to screw me on it as soon as he saw it. That, I was very much looking forward to.

"Where is everyone staying?" I asked, croakily.

"Mia is down the hall. Kate and Elliot are next door," he answered, pointing to the wall behind me. "Thankfully, our bedrooms do not back onto each other."

"A small mercy," I quipped.

"Yeah, I'm not interested in hearing them having sex," he shook his head. "And I'd rather they didn't hear us."

"Embarrassed?"

"Merely protecting your modesty," he winked. "I can't promise our security detail won't hear you though. We're surrounded by them."

Kate had explained to me on the plane that we would have more security than usual for our weekend. Taylor, Jaz and Sawyer were all back home, but there were twenty others ready and armed to protect us. Christian and I weren't happy about the latter point, yet agreed that in a city as busy as this it was best to prepare for any eventually.

"At least we'll both be able to relax, knowing we're covered on all bases," I admitted.

"Are you finally coming round to my way of thinking?" Christian arched his brow, smirking at me.

"I wouldn't go that far!" I snorted. "But I do understand the importance of being safe. Especially without Taylor being here."

"I couldn't drag him away from Sophie for another weekend," he shook his head. "He doesn't get to see her enough as it is."

"I agree," I hummed. "I'll miss him, though."

"Me too," he smiled, fondly thinking of his friend and confidant. "So… I checked how this weekend is going to work. What with us having separate parties and shit."

"And?"

"They won't budge on us staying apart throughout the day," he said.

I frowned.

"There will be no crossing paths, no texting, nothing."

"That's shit."

"But at night we get to meet up," he added.

My brows hitched, lifting.

"We'll have dinner together and get to check in with each other, before separating again for whatever they have planned for us."

"We will be together every night, though?" I worried. "Because I can just about handle being away from you for the day, but not during the night. I want you right here next to me. I'll be damned if Elliot is going to keep you from me."

Laughing, Christian crawled on top of me, pressing his full weight onto my body. He positioned himself between my thighs.

His nose ribbed mine, his lips gently pecking at the corners of my mouth.

"I love it when you get possessive," he hummed, his voice deep and throaty. I felt his chest vibrate against mine. "It really turns me on."

"Funny enough, I'm sensing that…" I stole a hard kiss from him. "Now answer my question. Do they promise we'll get to sleep together each night?"

"They've promised," he nodded. "I threatened to break Elliot's legs if he tries to keep us apart."

"Good! I need my cuddle buddy."

"I'm your _cuddle buddy?"_ he pouted. "What happened to me being your fuck buddy, huh?"

"You stopped being my fuck buddy the second you started inviting me over to your place," I explained. "You took me into your home – into your bed - that's too serious to be classed as some casual hook-up."

"I didn't just take you into my bed," he said. "I took you into my heart."

"Aw, baby…" I moaned.

I ran my fingers back through his hair, brushing it from his forehead.

"You don't need to talk like that just to get into my panties. I'm not wearing any."

A throaty laugh escaped him.

"Damn, if I'd known that I would have started fucking you ten minutes ago!" He thrusted his hips into mine, grinding his jeans against my linen pants. "I wasted all that flowery bullshit when I could have been pounding into you. What a rookie mistake!"

"You're losing your touch," I tutted. "Let's hope Vegas kicks some badass, ruthlessness back into you."

His smile brushed against mine as he kissed me, his teasing and mocking provoking a giggle that I couldn't suppress any longer.

Whilst I loved every side of him, even Mr Grumpy and Pedantic, the joker in him was a welcome relief after such a long time of hurt and upset. I would always relish its appearance.

* * *

"I was sceptical before," I announced. "But I have to say, this is absolute bliss!"

I grinned from ear-to-ear and reclined into my lounger, taking a sip from the Bellini in my hand. I was wrapped in an oversized fluffy robe, every inch of my body silky smooth and relaxed into complete submission.

Joining the others back in the lobby, Kate and Mia had whisked me off to the spa for a pampering session. The three of us were booked in for the works – for every treatment on the menu - not a single body part seemingly off limits. I glimpsed down at my fingers, appreciating the mint green polish I had opted for.

"I told you you'd like it!" Mia sang from her seat to my left. I turned my chin to her. "I'm never wrong. I said that colour would suit you."

"You did," I smiled. "Speaking of never being wrong – how is the business going?"

Mia's interior design business was still a fledgling, but I knew it would soar sooner or later. She had a unique eye and a great sense of what colours and textures work well together. I loved what she had done with our apartment.

"I've managed to secure my next client," she revealed, visibly buzzing as she told me this. "Christian's been a big help, of course. He's helping me build up a portfolio, so I can showcase what I can offer."

"If you want to take pictures of Escala, you can," I said. "I don't mind as long as there's nothing personal on show, like photos etc."

"Thank you!" she nodded, eagerly accepting the offer. "I've never been so happy. I think I've finally found my calling."

I knew this fact pleased everyone in the family. Christian was particularly concerned that Mia had yet to find a job, and Grace and Carrick were keen to see her become independent from theirs and Christian's wallets.

"I'm happy for you," I smiled. "You're coming into your own."

Kate returned to our corner of the room, having climbed out of the pool after a quick swim. She grabbed her towel and robe and wrapped them around her body.

"I love it here," she breathed heavily, rubbing the ends of her hair with a smaller towel. "Seriously, I want to stay here forever."

"Make sure you're back in time for the wedding," I snorted. "I'm down on numbers anyway, now my mother and her husband aren't coming. I can't afford to lose anyone else! It'll be just Ray at this rate."

Kate stopped her movements and stared at me, her beady gaze studying my face. Her eyes were full of concern.

"I haven't had chance to ask you how everything went with your mom," she recalled, shaking her head. "Christian told me what happened."

"I know," I nodded. "He said he'd spoken to you."

"Are you okay?" she checked. She reached over and clutched my hand, squeezing it hard.

I knew hearing about my bad experience with Carla would bring back her own familial issues. She had been disowned by her entire family, for crying out loud. It had been painful and difficult for her to process the harsh words her father had said to her, but more so the cold way her mother refused to intervene and stand up for her.

"I'm fine," I muttered. "Really. I'm doing okay. I'm not saying it wasn't shit, because it was, but I was expecting it."

"Has your mom always been like that?" Mia interrupted, edging closer and lowering her voice. "Have you always been distant from her?"

I nodded again. "I grew up with a mother, but not a mom."

"I'm sorry," she grimaced.

"Don't be," I shook my head. "I've come to terms with it. If this past year has taught me anything, it's that life is too short to waste time on people like her. I want to be happy and I know she would only drag me down."

"You've done the right thing in walking away from her," Kate told me. "I feel better being away from my fucked up family."

"Well, you've got us now," Mia declared. "Mom and Dad love the both of you. And they have more than enough love to share around."

"Your parents are amazing," Kate smiled. "They are something else."

"They're pretty special," Mia grinned proudly. "Christian, Elliot and I are super lucky. We all came from pretty broken backgrounds, but Mom and Dad saved us."

"Do you know anything about your past?" I asked.

"My birth mother was young," she nodded. "She was seventeen when I was born. Her parents were ashamed, apparently they were crazy religious and disapproved of her getting pregnant out of wedlock."

"Did they make her give you up?"

"I think so," she hummed. "My father was older than her and abusive, apparently. He didn't want a baby and took out his anger on her. She figured it was best to give me up and try to piece her life back together, away from him and her parents."

"Start over?" Kate guessed. "Without you?"

"Something like that," Mia nodded. "I think she probably made the right decision. She was young, had no money, was going it alone. It would be difficult to do that with a baby hanging off you."

"How do you know all this?" Kate wondered. "All of you know so much about your pasts."

"Mom and Dad kept our pre-adoption files," she explained. "We've all read them. I waited until I was eighteen to read mine, but Elliot was thirteen and I think Christian was about the same age. I guess it was easier for us because it's never been taboo. We knew were adopted. It wasn't some kind of dirty secret… Jeez, it's kind of obvious considering my family is white and I'm not."

"Was it difficult growing up different?" Kate paused, sipping her own drink. She flapped her hand in the air. "I mean, not race-wise, but being adopted? Elliot said he was the only adopted kid in his class. Was it the same for you?"

"Yeah, but Mom turned it into a positive," Mia smiled. "My parents chose me, that makes me pretty damn special by comparison… but on the other point, it was hard seeing I was the odd one out. I used to hate it, but Christian was always on hand to fight my corner. Kids can be cruel, they made comments about my hair, about my skin being dirty. It hurt."

"I'm guessing Christian got into a lot of fights, huh?" I gathered.

"Too many to list," she sighed. "I used to tell him to back down but he wouldn't. Elliot was the same, though. They looked after me. They still do, even if Elliot winds me up all the time!"

"He drives me crazy too," Kate laughed. "I wish my brother was half has protective as your brothers."

"I wish I had a brother, full stop!" I chortled. "Well, I guess I have one now in Elliot."

"And two sisters!" Mia beamed. She lifted her glass to raise a toast. "To us girls. Misfits and complicated, fabulous and fierce."

I clinked my glass with theirs and took a long gulp, almost finishing the lot. I clocked eyes with a server hovering in the corner, and she sprung into action. We were being waited on, hand and foot. If I wanted a drink, it was there within seconds.

I drew my feet up, bringing my knees to my chest, and picked up my phone to check my notifications.

Smirking, I opened the latest message Christian had sent. He was out playing golf with Elliot, hitting the course before hitting the sauna.

The text contained a single link. Clicking it, I giggled as the video for The Police's _Every Breath You Take_ filled my screen, the sound muted.

I replied:

_Careful, Mr Grey, your stalker side is showing! x_

**It's never too far away, baby. C x**

_You're breaking the rules. We're not supposed to be texting! x _

**Fuck the rules. Are you having fun? C x**

_I am. I needn't have worried. I'm in my element! x _

**Did you get a massage? C x**

_Several! Full body, head, feet… I have been spoiled! x _

**As you should be! C x**

_Are you having a good time? Have you killed Elliot yet? x_

**Not yet. He's behaving himself, for now. We're on the twelfth hole. Should have time to grab a beer before dinner. I'll meet you in our room? C x**

_Sure. Laters, baby ;) x_

**You need to stop spending time with my brother!**

_You love him…_

**Debatable. **

"Put that phone down!" Kate snapped, scowling at me. "Tell him I said to leave you the fuck alone, this is girl time."

I tapped out one last reply.

_Got caught. Kate said you need to leave me alone x_

**She's such a spoil sport. But I'll do as I'm told. Love you! C x**

"Okay, I'm putting it down," I sighed. I rolled my head in her direction. "What? I can't help it. We're in love."

"You're gonna make me vomit," she rolled her eyes. "Not even Elliot is as soppy as you two, and he's majorly into the romantic crap."

"You love all that shit," I protested. "You're worse than me. You love being wined and dined, having a guy fawning over you all the time."

"Doesn't every woman?" Mia laughed. "I know I wouldn't say no to some loving."

"Christian might have some objections!" I shook my head. "But who knows, maybe you'll meet someone here? A holiday romance?"

"Fat chance of that happening! I'll die a spinster," she groaned. "I might as well adopted some cats now…"


	18. Chapter 18

**Hello Lovelies,**

**I'm going to keep it short and sweet and give you the abridged version I posted on Facebook. I know I've been absent for a while and I am overwhelmed by the concern this has stirred, but please know I'm okay and everything is fine. I'm just incredibly busy at the moment with work. I'm doing very long hours and only get chance to write/edit on my days off now.**

**Please know that even though I'm slow on updating, I'm still around. I'm not going anywhere. :)**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thank you for your messages and support.**

**Much Love,**

**Chelsea x**

* * *

We reunited with Christian and Elliot late afternoon, the five of us dining privately for a five-course spectacular feast. The hotel had set us up in a beautiful, candle-lit room filled with fragrant bouquets of roses and lilies, and a table perfectly designed for an intimate meal. The menu was blank, the chef prepared to make whatever we desired. Nothing was off limits, our tastes and preferences her absolute priority.

We planned on spending a few hours together before separating once more, us girls staying here to peruse the casinos while Christian and Elliot head further down the strip for a game of poker with some guys they met at golf.

Christian held tightly onto my hand throughout dinner, his thumb constantly stroking over my knuckles, soft and rhythmic circles. I turned to catch his eye and he smiled, that delightful and cheeky smirk of his making an appearance.

"I need to soak up as much of you as I can," he confessed quietly, leaning into my ear. He tucked my hair back over my shoulder. "I wish you could come with me. You could be my good luck charm."

"Kate will chop off your balls if you take me away from her," I whispered back, blowing him a kiss as he grimaced.

We pulled apart as our server moved around the table, topping up our glasses. He poured everyone a glass of wine before pouring another sparkling water.

"You're not drinking?" Mia observed, staring at me with her dark eyes from over the brim of her chardonnay.

"I'm going to pace myself tonight," I snorted, shaking my head. "Take it easy so I don't flake out later. I don't want to get drunk. Not again."

I shuddered as the memories of the New York trip fluttered back into my mind. The headache, the spinning rooms, the vomiting…

"Oh, yeah, I heard about what happened when you went to the Big Apple with Christian," Mia giggled. Her eyes shifted to her brother. "She threw up all over you, didn't she? A total barf fest?"

I sank back into my seat as everyone began laughing.

"She didn't just throw up on me," Christian shook his head. "She threw up everywhere. On herself, all over the bathroom floor. I had to wrestle her into the shower just to clean her up."

"It's a wonder you didn't puke!" Mia shot back. "You could never handle vomit."

"It's different when it's the person you love who's puked," he sighed, shrugged. "Still disgusting, but manageable."

"And that's exactly why I'm going to take it easy!" I protested. "I do not want a repeat performance."

"Me neither," he chuckled. "And I like this shirt. It's one of my favourites. I'd hate to throw it away."

"It looks like every other shirt you own," Elliot piped up, arching his brow. "You wear the same shit all the time."

"Says the man-child who still thinks overalls are cute," Mia joined in, balling up her napkin and throwing it at him, narrowly missing his head. "I happen to like what he wears. He has style. It's very…"

"Boring?" Elliot rolled his eyes.

"Chic," Mia corrected, scowling.

"Stop picking on the bride-groom," Kate ordered him. "It's his weekend. Don't be mean."

"Yeah, bro, it's my weekend," Christian winked. He reclined into his seat, draping an arm around my back. "What are you girls planning for tonight then? Blackjack? Poker? Slot machines?"

"All of the above!" Kate rallied, clapping her hands together. "We're going to have the full casino experience."

"And hopefully we won't end up bankrupt," I sighed.

A team of waiters bustled into the room to gather our empty plates, signalling the end of dinner and the moment of our departure.

Christian pouted.

"I fucking hate being away from you," he moaned.

"Jeez, you're so clingy," I teased, prodding him in the side. "I hate clingy."

"You love clingy," he retorted. He leaned over and smacked a kiss on my lips. "Besides, it's your fault I'm clingy."

"How exactly is it my fault?"

"I wouldn't have a reason to be clingy if you weren't so damned adorable," he said, tapping my nose. "Can you stop?"

"Would it make it less painful?"

"Much less," he nodded.

"Would it help if I was a total bitch to you and treated you like dirt?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. He pushed to his feet and pulled me up with him. His hands snaked around my waist, settling into the crook of my spine. "Be good tonight."

"I'm always good," I shot back, tutting. He grinned at me. "What are you worried about, Grey? That I'm going to piss all your hard-earned money up the wall?"

"Sure," he hummed. He winked. "Do you know how to play poker?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Ray taught me. I've never played for money though."

"It's a thrill," he explained. "I love the buzz. I get it when I secure a deal. But I also know when to stop."

"Good," I smiled. "I think I might hover around the roulette table though."

"Fan of the wheel?"

"I'm drawn to it," I mumbled.

"Stick with black."

"Not red?"

"Never red," he shook his head, his eyes darkening slightly.

I understood what he meant.

I nodded.

"Got any lucky numbers?"

"31 and 11," he revealed. "But go with your gut. That's what I normally do."

"I thought you go with your dick?" I frowned. "Isn't that where your instinct is?"

He narrowed his eyes and pulled me closer into his chest. I slid my hand between us and cupped him, spreading my fingers across the hardened outline of his length.

"My dick is telling me to bend you over this table," he muttered under his breath, his voice deep and velvety. "It's telling me to fuck you senseless. Fuck you until you can't stand up."

"What's stopping you?" I gulped.

"The fact my brother and sister are waiting over at the door. They're staring at us," he huffed. He shot them a sideways glance. "Couldn't we have had a bachelor/bachelorette weekend where we just stay in bed and fuck all day and night?"

"Sadly not," I shook my head. "That just sounds like a regular Tuesday to me…"

* * *

"Holy shit, Ana, how much did you win?!" Kate shrieked, her eyes almost popping out of her head at the sight of the chips stacked high in front of me. "Jesus, you need to cash that in before someone tries to rob you."

"It's not _that_ much," I shook my head, smiling. "I guess I had lady luck on my side."

I had dropped chips whenever the urge struck me and, much to my surprise, my gut instinct had paid off. Handsomely so. I raked in the money, much to the other players' distaste. Christian's lucky 31 and 11 had been success, as well as my choices of 4, 17 and 21. That white ball landed on every single number of mine, like a magnet sticking to me each time.

I considered my stock pile and estimated it was in the thousands. Easily three or four.

I beckoned over two members of my personal detail and asked them to take the chips, wanting them off my hands. Better not to risk anything now. Security had stayed close to my side all evening, never more than an arm's reach away. Each of us had two guards and, as far as I could see, they were doing an exemplar job. I felt safe.

Kate and I excused ourselves from the table, a ripple of relief swirling from the other players, and headed to the bar for another round of drinks. I scanned the casino floor, looking for Mia.

"She's over at the slots," Kate pointed. I followed her finger and spotted Mia through the crowd. She was surrounded by a group of young men and women, all of them cheering and laughing. She was at the centre of it all. "Shall I go fetch her?"

"No, it looks like she's having fun," I shook my head. "She'll come join us later."

"She hasn't spent much time with us since dinner," Kate said, her neat brows pulling together. "You don't think she's feeling left out, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What, with that thing she said earlier? About being the only singleton?" she grimaced. "I wonder if she feels like she can't spend time with us. We do talk about the guys a lot."

"And we also talk about other things," I reminded her. "I'm sure if Mia felt like it was too much she'd tell us. She's hardly a shrinking violet like me."

"I guess," she shrugged. "Although, you're hardly one of those anymore. You speak your mind more freely these days."

"Maybe it's because I stopped giving a damn about what people think of me?" I retorted. "It's hard work, spending day in, day out worrying about what everyone is saying behind your back. And it doesn't get you anywhere. It's easier to shut the world out and get on with my life."

Kate smiled at my words, a look of pride shifting through her green gaze.

We reached the bar, taking the only two available stools. I sat down and twisted mine to face Kate properly, but she remained standing and instead dropped her bag on the seat.

"I need to use the restroom," she announced. "Get me a cosmo. I'll only be a minute."

I nodded and grabbed the drinks menu from in front of me.

"What will it be?" the tender asked, appearing from nowhere. He pushed his hands into the bar, propping himself up as he stared at me. He had a hawk-eye and a serpentine mouth. "Can I tempt you with one of my signature drinks?"

His cheeks were hollow, a dimple piercing into his protruding chin. His overall appearance unnerved me, my spine becoming rigid.

"No, thank you," I declined. I placed the menu back on the counter and slid it towards him. "My friend will have a cosmopolitan and I'll have a mojito."

"Coming right up, doll."

He made the drinks in front of me, whipping them up in hardly any time at all. As a former tender myself, I couldn't help but critique his style – the amount of times he shook the shakers, the order in which he added the ingredients. I was never that good at fixing a cocktail, but I had seen Cal master it on more than one occasion. This guy knew his stuff, clearly, but lacked finesse. He was performing, putting on a show just for me.

It made my skin crawl.

"Where's your friend?" he asked, pushing the drinks over. "She's not abandoned you, has she?"

"What business is that of yours?" I arched my brow.

He smirked back at me.

"I'm just making conversation with the sexiest girl in the room," he shrugged. His brows moved suggestively. "What brings you girls to Vegas?"

I released a low sigh, resisting the urge to roll my eyes into the back of my skull.

"Bachelorette weekend," I replied.

"Helping to celebrate the last few days of freedom for an unlucky friend?" he guessed.

"Not quite," I shook my head.

"Is your friend the chosen one?" he pestered. "Giving up her wild days for the monotony of marriage?"

"Not a traditionalist then?"

"It's for suckers," he shook his head. He leaned over the bar, gaining on me. I held my own but shifted back slightly. "Getting tied down, it's stupid. Not worth the hassle."

My eyes dropped to his left hand, taking in the distinctive mark circling his third finger.

"You're married?"

"Divorced," he corrected. "I speak from personal experience. It's easier being single… meeting a hot girl in a bar, make her a drink, show her a good time. It's what I do best."

"You're cocky," I fired back. "Sounds like your ex-wife had a lucky escape. I've only been in your company for a matter of minutes and already I feel like throwing myself off a high rise."

"You've got a smart mouth," he winked, laughing deep from inside his chest. "I like that."

"I've also got a fiancé," I said, flashing him my left hand. "It's my bachelorette."

His thin lips formed an O, his eyes widening too.

"In fact, it's a joint affair," I added. "My fiancé is here, having his bachelor party as well."

"Right…"

He visibly tensed. He looked around the room, as if searching for the man I am due to marry.

"He's not here, but you've probably met him. I know he was in here earlier," I continued. "Very tall, light brown hair, broad shoulders, perfect posture… _famous_…"

"Famous?" he frowned.

"Or infamous, depending on what you think of him. Not everyone is a fan."

"Oh?"

"He's ruthless," I nodded. "Can be cruel when he wants to be."

"And who is this infamous beast?"

"Christian Grey," I uttered.

I saw something pass over his face that caused my lips to split into a wild grin.

He rocked back on his heels.

"I think he'll love to hear you were hitting on his soon-to-be wife," I hooted. "That will go down a treat, I can tell you."

His entire face appeared to drop several inches, and he shuddered as another man approached him from the side and rested a hand on his shoulder. This second man was wearing a different uniform.

"Miss Steele –" he acknowledged me, nodding once. His name badge told me he was in charge. "Is everything okay here?"

"Yeah, everything is –"

The pesterer tried to quash it down with a rapid shake of his head, but I raised my hand to silence him.

"Actually," I said. I looked the boss in the eye. "This employee of yours is bothering me. It's making me feel very uncomfortable."

"Really? Well, we can't have that," the gentleman seethed. His fingers turned white as he pressed them deeper into the pesterer's shoulder. "Please accept my sincere apologies for this intrusion."

"I'd like him to leave me alone," I declared. "Now, please. I'm here to relax, not have my time interrupted by cheap pick-up lines."

The two men shared a look that left one of them significantly red in the face and the other with a vein bursting from his forehead. They rushed off, presumably to have stern words about etiquette.

I smiled to myself and took a sip of my mojito.

If there is one thing I've learned, it's that it is important to nip issues like this in the bud. Straight from the off, cut out the problem before it gets uncontrollable. I have spent my life pandering to other people, being nice and saving face. Where did it get me? Nowhere.

This new shade of Ana is strong and forthcoming. She is polite until you cross her, and she will speak her mind when she feels she needs to.

The pesterer was lucky. At least with me, he gets to walk away. Christian would have knee-capped him.

"What are you smiling about?" Kate asked, lifting onto her stool and gulping a large slurp from her drink. "You're almost blushing!"

"Some guy was hitting on me," I explained. I quickly shook my head. "And that's not the reason I'm blushing! In a round about way, I told him to fuck off."

"Woo, get you!" she grinned. "I'm not surprised he tried to hit on you, you're looking hot tonight. Your boobs look amazing."

I glanced down at my chest and the subtle V cut into my dress. From where I was sitting, they didn't look any different to normal. Still on the smaller side, maybe a fraction perter.

"New bra?"

"I'm not wearing one," I muttered. I pulled at the hemline, raising it. "But this dress is a little tight up top. The seamstress Mia hires must have gotten the sizing wrong."

"Either way, you're rocking it," she whistled. "No wonder Christian was fussing over you earlier. He could hardly keep his hands off you."

"Nothing out of the ordinary there," I laughed. "He's a nympho the best of times anyway."

We chinked our glasses and downed the rest of our drinks.

"What's the plan for the rest of the night?" I checked. "Are we staying here in the casino?"

"No," she shook her head. "We have somewhere else to be at eight-thirty."

"Are we catching a show?"

"Of sorts," she shrugged, coyly pursing her hot-pink lips. "We are going to have a private show. Just the three of us. For our eyes only."

I studied her smug face and felt a chill trickle down my spine.

"Oh god…" I moaned. "You haven't?"

"Haven't done what?"

"You've booked a stripper, haven't you?" I grimaced. "Kate, seriously? How could you?"

I swatted her arm, only making her laugh harder.

"Don't jump to conclusions," she urged, rubbing her bicep. "Just chill and see what happens."

"See what happens? I gave Christian shit about not having strippers, telling him that Elliot needed to be on his best behaviour…" I sunk my head into my hands. "I thought you knew I wasn't interested in any of that stuff?"

"I do," she nodded. "I know you like the back of my hand, but I also know sometimes you need to push the boat out. Try new things."

"I'm not going," I sulked, crossing my arms. "I am not going to sit there and have some random guy gyrate in front of me."

"Who said anything about it being a man?" she hummed, arching a brow.

"What?" I jerked my head back. "I don't –"

"Wait and see," she replied. "If you hate it, we'll leave and you can scream in my face. But please have an open mind?"

"If only you knew just how open my mind is already," I sighed. "Promise me there will be no penises shoved in my face?"

"I promise," she swore. "But there might be some phallic shaped objects…"

"I'm going to kill you."

"Christian knows," she added.

"He knows what?"

"What I have planned for you," she said. "I told him. He's fine with it."

"He approved whatever shit you've got planned?!"

She winked.

"Oh my god!"

"Ana, relax."

"Fuck's sake. I need another drink…"


End file.
